


Youth Was The Breaking Point

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Dean, Bottom Castiel, Chubby Dean, Dean Winchester doesn't understand love, Dean's got a sad past, Domestic, Fluff, Happy Ending, Lawyer Sam Winchester, M/M, Multi, Sad, Surgery, bad past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:50:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1855348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester and his fiance Castiel Novak have everything they could've wished for. They're engaged and living in a beautiful new house together, waiting for the arrival of their soon-to-be adopted baby, despite all of John Winchester's fruitless attempts to keep Dean in his own traditional, homophobic mindset, and the overall shittiness of his experiences. </p><p>But of course, if you're Dean Winchester, having everything doesn't usually work out as well as you want it to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Begins with You

Dean hates feeling useless. He likes being busy, helpful, important. These things matter more to him than anything; making sure he contributes.

Which is why, sitting on the floor cross-legged and very bored while Cas attempts and fails to put together a crib isn't exactly his ideal Sunday afternoon. Although it is quite funny to watch his fiance’s ultimately useless endeavors as they crash and burn, he is bored and feels completely incapable.

Cas cuts short Dean’s annoyed thought train by hissing, “Ow! Shit!”

Dean leans forward in a concerned fashion, asking, “Cas? You okay?”

Cas grumbles angrily, sticking his thumb in his mouth before replying, “I accidentally stabbed myself with the nail. I’ll survive.”

Dean chuckles lightly, “Why don’t you just let me do this? I’m way more handy than you.”

Cas sighs patiently as he goes back to work, “Dean please, you know I’m not going to let you.”

Dean narrows his eyes, “I’m an adult buddy, I don’t need permission from my fiance.”

Cas stares at him pleadingly, “Dean, I’m only being overprotective out of concern and love. You know that.”

Dean pouts, “If you build the crib our kid is gonna fall through it the first time he sleeps there.”

Castiel ponders this for a moment before realizing Dean is more than likely correct in his assumption, “Fine Dean, you can put it together. But I’m right here if you need help, and don’t do any lifting okay? I’ll get it.”

Pleased with the compromise, Dean nods and scoots on his butt towards the dismantled crib, only to find that Cas has already screwed on three pieces backwards. “Dammit Cas,” he sighs, as he begins to disassemble the incorrectly placed parts, “you did a number on this thing.”

Cas half smiles, “you _are_ more handy than me.”

Dean spends the next two hours fixing the damn crib, with Cas periodically checking in to make sure he wasn't straining himself or getting hurt. An hour in, Cas left to make dinner and returns swiftly with a plate full of greens and meat. The famished Dean eagerly digs in, and eats as quickly as possible before returning to his meticulous work.

When the crib is finished, and complete with a small baby mattress and soft cotton blankets decorated with little electric guitars, Dean steps back to admire his work. The nursery is near completion, it already had a bassinet, a plethora of baby toys and play equipment, and a changing table. All it needs is a fresh coat of dark blue paint and a record player.

Dean is just about to suggest this to Cas, when his fiance surprises him by circling his arms around Dean’s waist and muttering, “Dean it looks incredible.”

Dean’s face feels warm from the praise, “Thank you Cas. I hope the little guy likes it.”

Cas presses a soft kiss to Dean’s jaw before responding, “Anything you’ve made will be perfect for our child.”

Dean sighs and leans his head back against Cas’ shoulder, “I love you.” he murmurs.

Dean can feel Cas smile against his head as he whispers in reply, “I love you too Dean. Are you tired?”

Despite his more valiant efforts, Dean finds himself yawning in response to the question, “Exhausted.” he admits.

Cas chuckles lightly, “Then by all means, shouldn't we be getting to bed?”

The tone in his voice changes instantly from teasing to seductive as Dean asks, “And what would we do in bed?”

“Well, of course we’d be careful of your healing stitches. But we could do..other things as well.”

“And other than being cautious, what would you want to do?” Dean cuddles up a bit closer to Cas, while Cas fingers thrum lazily on the patch of skin above Dean’s stitches.

Fingertips tickling his fiance’s ribs, Cas mumbles, “We could break in the new bed.”

Dean giggles involuntarily. Although the doctor who’d taken out his appendix had warned him that strenuous activity would put too much stress on his body and possibly pull his stitches out, she deemed gentle sex was okay. Usually in the bedroom, Dean is anything but gentle, but now Cas is a dictator of safety. Dean knows as soon as the child they are having through surrogacy arrives, he’ll back off Dean and be more strict with the kid, which is a-okay with Dean. If Cas is going to be the stern parent, it means Dean can be the cool one.

So with this grudging knowledge, he allows Cas to lead him into their freshly refurbished bedroom and slowly lower Dean on to the brand new king sized bed. The sheets are silky and cool, and they close around Dean’s hot body with a feeling of finality.

Then, Cas is hovering above him, crystal clear blue eyes glistening with pale moonlight that seeps in from the open window, and straight white teeth beneath broad lips lowering themselves to Dean’s. The kiss is long and passionate, and it brings Dean’s desire for another to an unbelievable high as Cas pulls his mouth inches away to breathe deeply. His breath is cool and minty, and it washes over Dean’s skin, sinking him further into Cas’ hypnotising qualities.

“Cas,” Dean finds himself moaning, “I want it. Badly.”

A smile makes it’s way on to Castiel’s face as he begins to unbutton his shirt, straddling Dean by the waist. Each button slowly comes undone with theatrics, and soon Cas’ bare torso is visible in all it’s glory. Dean finds himself entranced by each muscle and tendon that ripples it’s way across Cas’ arms and stomach, resisting the urge to lick his lips at the very sight of Castiel’s body. Dean’s shirt follows as well, fluttering to the floor soundlessly.

Bare chests pressed together, Dean and Cas begin to remove their pants as well. Heat and friction that could set a house on fire flares up between their sweaty skin as Cas lowers himself to the waistband of Dean’s boxers. Teeth bared, Cas rips off the fabric and presses soft kisses to Dean’s exposed pelvis, slowly beginning to approach the desired area. Dean’s erect member stands before him, and Cas eases into his mouth, seeming to relish in the familiar feeling.

Cas begins running his mouth and tongue along the length of Dean’s groin, earning a string of moans from Dean, who’s begun to grip thick locks of Castiel’s dark hair between his fingers with vigor. With a grunt and a sharp intake of breath, Dean finishes. Cas eagerly swallows everything Dean’s given him, pleasure evident on both of their expressions. Cas licks his lips as Dean grabs him and pulls their bodies together.

Moments later, Cas is flat on his stomach, Dean laying beneath him, preparing to enter him with gentle strokes. Lips mash against each other and breath collides as two people become one. Dean rides up into his fiance slowly but surely, putting as little stress on himself as he can manage. Still, bursts of pain shoot through his side and across his belly.

He curses softly, and Castiel can tell that it’s not a pleasure cuss, “Dean.” he pants, “We can stop. I don’t want you hurting.”

Dean shakes his head and thrusts up once more, cutting Cas’ words short with a string of moans. Cas leans down to press a soft kiss to Dean’s damp forehead, cool breath coming out in a whoosh as Dean hits a sensitive spot. A smile caresses Cas’ pink lips, and Dean continues rolling his hips against Cas’ as he presses his mouth against his fiance’s. It takes only a few more slow, gentle thrusts of Dean’s hips to bring both men to their finish. Dean comes hard inside Cas, who in turn climaxes, moaning and letting a series of pleasured sighs escape his lips. After a few moments of shallow, labored breathing and weak smiles, they untangle themselves and flop tiredly beside each other in the sheets. Cas curls up against Dean’s side, and Dean can’t help but relish in the familiar mixture of mint and sweat curling from Cas’ skin.

Dean had never known that sex could be like this, not before he met Cas at least. His experiences with sex have been rough and angry and ferocious, never so slow and tender and...beautiful. Dean surprises himself by thinking that. He realizes that it’s true: he thinks of sex with Cas as beautiful. Sure, sometimes it’s more fast paced and not so relaxed, but it’s never anything but gorgeous. Dean never resents the thought of making love to Cas, because every time he knows it will be an incredible journey.

These thoughts also surprise him, did he really just use the term _making love_? He’s always hated that with a sincere passion. It was sex. Fucking. It was a cheap thrill in a crummy motel room or an accidental slip-up in an ultimately failed abstinence program pushed on him by his conservative father. Dean has never thought of sex as anything related to love, but with Cas, it’s one of the most loving things he’ll do. Other than setting up the nursery, that is.

Dean loves preparing the nursery for the upcoming arrival of their baby. Even though he had to stop the construction of it for a while when his appendix ruptured a week ago, Dean is not discouraged about the nursery’s speedy progression from an empty bedroom in his and Cas’ recently purchased home. Working on it, putting something together for his kid, it makes Dean feel good. It makes him feel like he’s doing a much better job as a parent than his father ever did for him, because let’s be real, John Winchester isn’t exactly the poster boy of proper parenting.

Just ask Dean’s little brother Sam, who moved out as soon as he hit eighteen. John tried and fortunately failed to get Sammy to hop on his republican, sexist, homophobic and slightly racist bandwagon. Those pathetic efforts of course, are partly why Sam is now a well known political activist and lawyer for the rights of the underprivileged.

Dean likes that Sammy has grown up to be the polar opposite of what John wanted for him, and Dean could say the same for himself. He’d turned out to be a gay, liberal artist who attends pride rallies and shamelessly shows off the ring his _male_ fiance had bought him to whoever is interested.

“What are you thinking about?” Cas asks quietly, shattering the peaceful silence that has settled around the couple as they curl cozily under their blankets.

Dean smiles and runs a hand through Cas’ sweat-slicked hair, “My dad.” he admits softly.

Cas crinkles his nose with mock disgust, “After we've just had sex? Dean, I didn't realize you could be such a pervert.”

Dean snorts and playfully flicks Cas’ forehead, “You know what I mean idiot. Just...just that I’m exactly what he didn't want for his kids, you know?”

Cas ponders this for a moment before muttering, “Thank god for that.”

 “I’m really glad I have you Cas.”

Cas tilts his head up to smile brightly at Dean, “I’m glad that you’re glad to have me. I’m extremely lucky to have you as well.”

Dean is content, and as he always does with Cas’ warm body beside him, he falls into a comfortable rest.

_\- 1 Week Ago-_

_Dean awakes to a sharp blistering agony in his side. A gasp chokes it’s way out of his throat as he bursts upright in bed and his trembling fingers fly to his belly. A moan escapes his throat as his teeth clench shut tight and he tries to breath properly. The jostling of the bed and Dean’s agonized groans are enough to rouse Cas from his normally heavy sleep. He blinks away a days worth of exhaustion as he sits up beside Dean and frowns into the darkness, his puzzled face illuminated by moonlight._

_“Dean?” he slurs groggily, “whas’rong?”_

_Dean manages to speak through his discomfort, “I dunno Cas. Something’s going on, ah, my side hurts. Bad.”_

_Becoming more alert at the sound of Dean’s distress, Cas inquires, “How bad is it? Should we go to the ER or something?”_

_Dean grimaces and let’s out a low-pitched wail, “Fuck, yes Cas, shit yes!”_

_“Alright alright,” Cas scrambles out of bed and rummages around the room before finding his shoes and crossing the room to Dean again, “Can you walk?”_

_Dean nods, but soon realizes he can’t move very far without support. Cas isn’t exactly a bodybuilder, and Dean’s put on a little more around the middle, so the best he can do is offer Dean a shoulder to lean on as they limp their way down the stairs and out to the car._

_When they reach the Emergency Room Dean is almost unable to stand at all due to the torrent of agony going on inside him. He knows he’s probably being a bit dramatic, since Cas predicts it’s his appendix and Dean knows Cas got his removed a few years ago, but he thinks during a time like this he’s fucking entitled to a bit of theatrics._

_Cas doesn’t seem to agree, since the whole time they’re waiting to be seen he murmurs, “Dean I’m sure you’ll be okay, no need to panic.”_

_Dean will dismiss Castiel’s indifference to his pain as him being nervous and continue to have a proper freakout._

_After a bajillion years of waiting, a doctor finally decides to give a damn and shows up, ushering them into a room where she performs a quick diagnostic exam on Dean. It’s very invasive, and she presses her fingers into Dean’s flesh, which causes the pain to flare up even more violently and tempts him to throttle her until she suffocates to death. He refrains from murder however, because she announces that his appendix will need to be taken out immediately. Dean is both immensely relieved, and incredibly scared, but he decides for Castiel’s sake, to act like none of it phases him._

_“Well,” he manages breathlessly to both doctor and an anxious Cas, “looks like I’ll need a divorce lawyer. Me and appendix are breaking up."_

_It’s a dumb joke, but seriously, he’s fucking terrified._

_Cas can see right through him, “It’s gonna be okay Dean, don’t worry. Dr. Harvelle will take excellent care of you.”_

_“That’s right.” the petite blonde doctor replies, nodding surely, “Dean you’ve got nothing to stress over. We’ll get the appendix out as soon as possible, and you’ll be on the road to recovery in no time.”_

_Dean hates the way she speaks; as if this is some fucking cosmic journey through time and space. Newsflash: it’s not, it’s his damn appendix._

_Cas steps forward and presses a soft kiss to Dean’s damp forehead, “I’ll be here waiting for you the whole time. You’re gonna do fine.”_

_Dean takes a nervous breath, and sincerely hopes Cas is right._

-Current Time-

Dean awakens to the shrill sound of Cas’ alarm clock, alerting both of them that it’s time for work. Cas groggily rolls on his side and grins up at Dean through a haze of morning fog.

“G'morning’ Dean,” he murmurs sleepily, “How’d you sleep?”

Dean twirls a lock of Cas’ dark hair on his index finger, “Fine Cas, thanks. You need a haircut.”

“I like it long, it makes me look like Simba.”

“And it gets in your eyes while you’re trying to work.” Dean reminds his boyfriend lightly.

Cas sighs, “I suppose you’re right. I hate being a grown-up.”

Slowly, in the grunge of the morning, Cas and Dean manage to untangle themselves from the sheets and climb out of bed. Still naked from the night before, they opt to share the shower which ultimately results in a lot of cuddling and moist shower kisses, but they get washed up and are ready for work in under an hour.

While Dean is pulling on his nice green button down, Cas stops him by saying, “Hey Dean wait a second.”

Dean turns towards his fiance, shirt unbuttoned to reveal his torso, “Yeah?”

Cas steps forward and frowns down at Dean’s stitches, “Are they supposed to look like that?”

“Huh?”

“Look here,” Cas turns Dean around so he’s facing the mirror and points, “God they’re so red. Does that hurt?”

Dean runs a finger over his stitches and sees that sure enough, they’re very red and inflamed. The puckering skin around the stitches is a brilliant tomato red color, and his flesh feels tender and tingly in a weird way.

“Well I mean, it doesn’t feel good.” Dean shrugs and proceeds to button his shirt up, “I’m sure it’s fine.”

Cas shifts nervously on his feet as he watches Dean continue to get dressed, “Maybe I should call Dr. Harvelle for another follow up appointment today.”

Dean rolls his eyes; if Castiel isn’t overprotective, then Dean isn't an alcoholic. 

“Cas stop sweating, everything is okay. C’mon I’m starving.” Dean finishes dressing and flicks their bedroom light off as Cas trails behind hesitantly.

Together, they brew a pot of coffee and make some toast. Dean likes his coffee black, but Cas dumps a tooth-rotting amount of cream and sugar into is. Despite his disgust at this though, Dean leans down to press a soft kiss to his fiances lips. Cas smiles into it and kisses back eagerly, setting his mug down on the counter behind Dean. The kiss deepens, and soon Cas’ back is against the fridge, hot breath running over Dean’s skin in an irresistible fashion.

In the midst of their makeout session though, Cas kills it by whispering, “Dean, work.”

Dean groans, and pulls away with reluctance, “I hate being a grown-up.” he mocks Cas, who laughs and returns to his coffee.


	2. Your Blood For My Glory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING FOR: Extreme homophobic behavior and slurs/ graphic violence and death. Read at your own discretion, it can be fairly disturbing.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you to those who read and gave me kudos on chapter one, it was very encouraging and I very much appreciate the support. (:

Dean’s heart, is a very fragile thing.

He supposes when you think about the gravity of his experiences, it’s not all too shocking that he’s emotionally unstable and well...fucked up. And really, since moving in with Cas, things have changed. Dean feels more...stable. He doesn’t feel like every day his life will be stolen from him, ripped from underneath him like a cheap magicians trick. He doesn’t walk on eggshells with the things he loves, not like he used to.

That is, until he gets the phone call.

He’s in the middle of spreading a thin layer of pink paint across his canvas, finishing up the illusive sunset he’s been working on for a few days. Elvis is playing softly in the background of his art studio, and Dean feels completely at ease, as he always does when he paints. The sound of the phone ringing is shrill and demanding, and it breaks through a blissful border that momentarily had Dean relaxed.

He sets the brush down and trudges across the studio to pick it up, because what if it’s Cas? “Hello?” he says slightly impatiently into the receiver.

“Is this...is this Dean Winchester?” The voice is gruff and guarded, a tone that is all too familiar to Dean.

Still, he forces a facade of calm and replies, “W-who is asking?”

“Dean you know who it is.” His breath catches at the man’s self assurance.

He only knows one person with that much unneeded confidence. “Dad?”

The word comes out of his mouth in a cracked, trembling tone. His mouth feels sticky and his throat isn’t working properly. He hasn’t talked to his father since...shit.

“Yeah Dean it’s me.”

“How the hell did you get this number? And what makes you think you have the right to call me?”

“I’m your father Dean. What, are you still upset about this? C’mon, it’s been years.”

Dean brings his fingertips to his mouth and begins to gnaw on them, a bad habit that Cas had gotten him to kick nearly three years ago. A nervous habit.

“You know I’m still ‘upset’ you fucker.” Dean hisses around his finger, “You almost...you could’ve ruined my life.” 

"Dean, you’re being a drama queen. Seriously, what is it with you faggots? Not everything is a big show.”

Dean bites down so hard on his finger that he tastes blood. He can’t find it in himself to muster a reply.

“Anyway, Sam told me you and Cas are having a baby.”

“ _Sam_ told you? I-I thought you two weren’t speaking anymore.” “

Yeah well he came around. I am his dad after all.”

“I can’t believe he-”

“Shut up Dean we’re not talking about your brother here. We’re talking about you and that...that queer. You can’t have a baby with him.”

“That _queer_ is named Castiel, and the laws of the state of California say yeah, we can. We already have a surrogate, she’s due in four months.”

“Dean this is crazy. You can’t raise a baby in that...environment.”

“Fuck you, my environment is going to be a million times better than most of the parents out there. Including, no, _especially_ , yours.”

“Dean I’m serious. I won’t stand for this.”

“Yeah? And what the fuck do you think you’re gonna do about it?”

Dean realizes too late that he probably should not have asked this. If John Winchester gets off on anything, it’s a challenge. Dean fears that his father, whom he has suspicions about being mentally damaged, is going to do something seriously harmful.

“Just wait Dean,” John replies in an even tone, “I’m going to fix this, all of it. Just wait son...you’ll thank me soon enough.”

“You lost the fucking right to call me that a long time ago you bastard. If you come near me and my family, I’ll….I’ll-”

"You’ll what Dean? Prove that you haven’t changed? You still are my son huh? My violent, impulsive and passionate son? C’mon, put that anger to good use like you used to by my side.”

“That wasn’t me,” Dean insists quickly, “I was under your influence. I-I’m not homophobic dad.”

“Really? I have an address for you to visit Dean, see how it makes you feel.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

"You don’t want to know where that man is now?”

Dean swallows, “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“You and I both know Dean, that you remember beating that man. I just think you should know where he ended up after we left him on that porch, bloody and knocked out. It might make you feel good about seeing me again.”

Dean hates his father. Dean hates how manipulative, and sneaky he is. Dean isn’t like that anymore...he was just being his fathers puppet out of fear. Dean didn’t mean to beat that man...Dean didn’t care that that guy was gay...Dean was gay...he’d changed, he wasn’t like that anymore.

“Fine.” Dean snarls back, “But just because I want to make sure he’s okay.”

Dean can almost see the smirk on John Winchester’s sly face, “Eden Cemetery, Lawrence Kansas. That’s where you’ll find him.”

The line disconnects abruptly. Everything comes crashing down on Dean all at once.

_-Six years ago-_

_A very anxious seventeen year old Dean Winchester waits by the bus stop for his father to pick him up. He shifts his feet anxiously, he’s in an unruly part of town, and he’s a bit nervous standing out here all alone._

_Relief floods over him when his father’s familiar Chevy Impala rounds the corner, but is quickly squashed when John leans his head out the driver window and calls, “Dean! I got something for us to do!” Dean approaches the car with a sick, heavy feeling in his gut. He crosses to the other side and climbs in the passenger seat as the car speeds down the road, going deeper into town._

_“Where’s Sammy?” Dean inquires tensely._

_John smiles, “Don’t worry Dean, he’s safe and sound at home.”_

_“Are we going to...do it again?”_

_“This time you’re going to help me.” John insists, “Time you learned how to put a gay in their place.”_

_Dean licks his lips before asking softly, “Why?”_

_“Because someone needs to tell them that what they do is wrong, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let them roam free and poison my kids.”_

_Dean wants to argue that he hasn’t been poisoned by anyone, and that the thought of beating someone up because of their sexual orientation makes him feel nauseas, but if his dad thinks it, it surely has to be right. His dad is never wrong._

_Dean sniffs the air a little and gasps, “Are you...is that whiskey I smell?”_

_John shrugs and turns a sharp corner, racing down the street a bit faster now, “I had a little drink, nothing to be worried about Dean. Alright, this guy lives here, heard him give his address to another guy at the bar.”_

_The car halts completely at the curb outside a nice little cape cod style house. Dean can see lights shining out through thin blue curtains, and two people laugh happily from inside. John snarls under his breath, “he’s got the other fucker in there with him. Oh god I’m gonna barf. Alright Dean, follow my lead.”_

_Dean gets out of the car and nervously follows his father up the front steps. John Winchester knocks twice, and then a blonde man appears, smiling easily._

_“Good evening guys,” he greets them politely, “What can I do for you?”_

_John growls, “We don’t want nothin’ from you, queer.”_

_The man shifts uneasily on his feet, glancing back into the house before closing the front door, “What’s your game here guys? You’re not gonna convert me or something.”_

_“There’s no fixing you jackasses,” John agrees coldly, “But we can show you why it’s wrong.”_

_The guy rolls his eyes and remarks, “I’d like to see you try.”_

_Actually, he doesn’t like it when they try._

_In fact, when John grabs his collar and slams him against the siding of the house, he gasps, “What are you doing?” “_

_Dad!” Dean grabs his father’s arm, “not out here, someone’s gonna see us.”_

_“They don’t care son. Here, take this fucker and put him in his place.” John throws the man towards Dean, who catches him just in time so that he doesn’t collapse._

_The man’s eyes are a twinkling brown, their beauty now distorted by terror. “Please,” he says to Dean, “You don’t want to hurt me. I haven’t done anything wrong. It’s not wrong kid, really, it’s natural.”_

_Dean isn’t sure if he’s just angry at his dad, or angry at this man for trying to explain it to Dean, or maybe he’s upset with himself for not being able to be the straight, perfect kid his dad wants, but Dean needs to punch something._

_When his knuckles collide with the guys face the first time, he feels remorse. The second time, he’s a little guilty. The third time, Dean forgets who he’s punching and just relishes in the feeling of his stress seeping out in the form of a broken nose and a black eye._

_By the time the man is laying on his back on the porch, bloody and bruised and sobbing, “Help! Someone help!” Dean feels much better._

_Dean hears fearful shuffling from inside the house, but he knows that the man inside isn't dumb enough to come out here and challenge them. The man whom Dean’s been punching rolls on his side and coughs, blood spattering his chin. “Help!” he calls to a couple walking their dog on the street._

_The couple glances at them, grimaces, and continues on their walk._

_John takes over and kicks the guy hard in the head with the tip of his boot, which makes his wriggling body go limp and his eyes fall closed. Moments ago the rise and fall of his chest had been steady, but it's reduced now to nearly nothing._

_“Shit,” John mutters, “c’mon Dean, you did good, let’s get home.”_

_Dean blindly follows his father, without really stopping to see why they left so abruptly. The man hasn’t moved in a few minutes, and he looks a little more than unconscious. He looks like a zombie._

_“Dad,” Dean chokes out once they’re in the car and speeding away. His clothes are blood stained and his left hand feels broken, “Did we kill him?”_

_John reaches under the steering wheel and removes a flask of whiskey, “Maybe so Dean.”_

_Dean watches his father take a swig and push on the gas pedal a little harder, “Are we going to jail?”_

_He throws his head back and laughs loudly, “No Dean! That faggot knows better than to press charges, we ain’t the only ones out there. He’ll just say he never saw us.”_

_John Winchester takes another swig of whiskey and drives his son down the road, an unabashed grin spreading wide on his face, as he relishes in the thought of mercilessly beating another innocent man._

_-Current time-_

After a rather difficult drive home and a minor panic attack, Dean enters his and Castiel’s house feeling dirty.

He hasn’t thought about that in over six years...he’s always just deluded himself into believing that the man turned out fine after the incident. He got up, and returned to his house, happily ever after with a few bruises etched into the story.

Dean has never been more wrong. Dean has also never felt so fucking sick in his life. He’s never thought of himself as a murderer, and even though it was John who delivered the final blow, the man would still be alive if it weren’t for Dean.

Dean doesn’t even know the man’s name.

Usually Dean gets home first, since Cas teaches tenth grade biology and he’s always grading papers after school. But, since Dean couldn’t actually see clearly enough to drive after the phone call with his father, he decided to sit on the wood floor of the art studio he rented downtown and just cry for a while, so he's running a bit late.

As he steps through the front door, he hopes that it isn’t obvious that he’d been crying. The last thing he needs is Cas poking around in Dean’s unsavory history, and finding out the kind of person he’d been under his father’s influence. Cas would be devastated, and mortified. Because Dean used to be the kind of person who tormented Castiel in high school for being gay. Cas could’ve been the man on the porch...Cas almost had been a few times...what if his bullies hadn’t stopped when they were beating _Cas_?

The mere thought of that makes every bone in Dean’s body ache with fraudulent sorrow.

“Dean?” Cas calls from the couch as Dean appears in the living room.

He hopes he doesn’t look as bad as he feels, but by the expression on Cas’ face, he fears his perturbation is obvious. “Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Cas demands as he rises from the couch and makes his way towards Dean, “Is it your stitches? I called Dr. Harvelle, she thinks you might have an infection, she wants us to come in first thing tomorrow.”

Dean is so startled and relieved at Cas’ assumption, he can’t find a proper response. He just pulls Cas against his chest and presses soft kisses to his neck.

Cas squirms away to stare him right in the eye, “Dean?” he repeats tersely. Dean shakes his head a few times, as if that will clear it of it’s rapid pounding and the feeling of blood rushing through his ears, “Thanks Cas. I-I’m glad you called her.”

A frown crosses Castiel’s face as he touches Dean’s cheek and inquires, “What’s with you Dean?”

“Nothing babe, just not feeling great. Really, thank you for calling her.”

“Of course Dean, you know I’d do anything for you. Are you sure there’s nothing else you want to discuss?”

Dean is very aware that Cas can see through his lies with ease, but he still finds the truth unreachable, “I’m fine. I love you...I love you so much.” he grabs Cas and cradles him close again, tangling his fingers in his fiancee’s hair as if he’ll never get to feel it again.

Cas curls up close to Dean, and rests his cheek on Dean’s heart, “I love you too Dean, unconditionally.” Dean swallows, which is surprisingly hard to do with the lump in his throat, and he wonders if Cas would still say that if he knew that Dean was a murderer.

Dean feels sick to his stomach, because Cas has no idea who he's hugging. 


	3. Prejudice Is Blind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, warnings for mentions of violence and homophobia. Please read at your own discretion, as some may find the content disturbing or unsettling.
> 
> Also, thank you very much for reading.

 "So just rub this salvant over the stitches for a few days and it will look good as new.” Dr. Harvelle -or as she’s requested him to address her, _Jo_ ,- tells Cas and Dean as they exit her office.

Cas shifts anxiously on his feet, glancing sideways at Dean, who’s put on his tough guy expression. They thank her sincerely, and quickly shuffle out of the office and back to Cas’ Honda.

Cas gets behind the wheel and throws Dean a perturbed look, “Are you alright?”

Dean nods weakly, “Just sorry that she said we can’t uh...you know, for a while.”

Cas frowns as he starts the car and pulls out of the lot, “Dean I don’t care that we can’t have sex until you’re healed. Your health comes before any sexual desire.”

A pink blush blossoms on Dean’s cheeks, a color that Castiel is very familiar with, “Thanks Cas. Really.”

Cas hates the way Dean looks at him sometimes, like he can’t believe Cas is all his. Like Dean is completely and utterly astonished by the idea of someone actually wanting him. Dean’s self deprecating attitude has always been one of the things Cas likes the least about him, and he’s told him so. Dean means everything to Cas, Dean means more to Cas than anyone on earth, but for some reason he can’t see that.

Cas wonders if it has to do with some of the things Dean has mentioned about his dad. He’s never gone into full detail, Cas just knows that his dad is a jerk, but other than that Dean’s been pretty tight lipped. Castiel himself has opened up to Dean, and sometimes it hurts that the trust isn’t reciprocated as well as he’d like it to be, but Cas hopes with a little more time Dean will come to explain why he’s the way he is.

Cas understands not having self worth. He’d struggled with it for the majority of his high school experience. Things were a little different back then, when Cas was 17; being gay wasn’t as accepted as it is today. And even though he’d been extremely offended when his single mother Naomi had told him not to come out until he graduated, Cas regretted not listening to her.

It was ten years ago, he was 17, he was naive and he thought that nothing bad could ever happen to him. Cas is smarter now, but back then, he somehow felt like the world was his for the taking, and that there was only good.

Well, he found out pretty fast that he was wrong. So yeah, nobody cared that he was picky about what clothes he wore and was particular with his shoes and hair -very stereotypical, he knows- but people did start to get riled up when he asked another boy to his freshman winter formal. And when he and the boy, Chris, showed up to the formal, Chris wearing makeup and the same kind of corsage as all of the girls in the auditorium, they went from riled up to unnaturally threatened.

Neither Chris, nor Castiel saw it coming. After all 17 year old Cas had no enemies, he was very loved at his high school. All the girls liked him because he was kind and sensitive and helpful, all the guys liked him because he was their star baseball player and could burp the alphabet in under a minute. He was one of the most popular people in his school. Until he “decided” to be gay. Apparently, once they knew he liked boys, all of the good stuff about him didn’t matter. He wasn’t a person anymore, he was public enemy number one. They forgot everything about him, except the fact that he was gay.

When the guys dragged him and Chris outside the auditorium to taunt and beat them, Cas realized that prejudice is blind to personality.

He shakes these thoughts away; he doesn’t want to get lost in memories. He wants to try to forget, to push away any remembrance of the bruises and cuts he’d come home with, only to have his mother turn her face in shame. He doesn’t want to think about cleaning the blood from his cheeks as his brothers and sisters nervously shuffled away from the sink, pretending they didn’t see.

Right now, he wants to focus on the present. He wants to work on getting Dean’s infected stitches all fixed up, finishing their baby’s nursery, and moving on with his new life. He’s never been happier than he is at this point in his life, he’s got a great job teaching eleventh grade English, Dean’s painting has taken off so well that they can even afford to rent him his own studio downtown, and their baby is going to arrive in under four months. Cas doesn’t feel like anything can ruin this for him now. He’s past all the bullshit homophobia and anger, his life is full of good things, like Dean and their upcoming baby.

“You okay Cas?” Dean asks as they pull into the driveway, a slight nervous look on his face as if he’s afraid Cas has discovered a cruel secret.

Cas hates making Dean anxious; when they first met he was a total wreck. He’d apologize for almost everything he did wrong, had this major guilt complex like everything was his fault, and he made fun of himself constantly. Not to mention, he was much thinner than he is now. He’d once looked like he spent all day running from someone, and never settling, unlike now how he’s very domestically shaped. He also used to do this gross thing where he’d chew on his fingers and bite his nails, Cas hated that, and somehow convinced him to stop before they even began dating.

Cas likes to think that since he and Dean have been together and especially since Cas proposed, Dean’s become more comfortable with both himself and other people. But since Dean got home from work yesterday, he’s been totally on edge and jumpy. At first Cas assumed it was because of the infection in his stitches, he was probably just concerned for his health, but last night Cas was paying the phone bill for both his and Dean’s cell phones, and he noticed a peculiar number. It was a Kansas area code, and it had called Dean just a few hours before he returned from work.

He’s been too nervous to ask Dean about it, because he’s afraid Dean will freak and shut him out. Castiel has tried numerous times before to pry and inquire about Dean’s life before he met Cas, and he once went too far. Dean left the apartment they’d been sharing at the time and didn’t come back for two days. Cas had been sick with worry. Of course upon Dean’s return neither of them talked about it, which is probably unhealthy, but Cas is too damn scared that he’ll send Dean running again. Cas doesn’t think he could stand it if Dean rips off the engagement ring and leaves. He really cannot imagine going on without Dean. He wouldn’t be able to eat, or sleep, or breathe if Dean left him now, so Cas tries to leave Dean’s thoughts in his own head.

Cas realizes Dean is staring at him expectantly and waiting for an answer, so he simply says, “I’m alright Dean.”

Dean hesitates before opening his door and mumbling, “Are you mad at me?”

Cas shuts off the engine and looks up at his fiance’s worried expression. He tries to alleviate the tension with a smile, but he’s certain that it more or less resembles a grimace, “Of course not Dean, why would I be? I’m just lost in thought is all. C’mon, let’s make lunch I’m starving.”

Together, they enter the house and go straight for the kitchen. Cas is half-paying attention as he sets his bag on the counter and moves towards the fridge, rummaging through for the ingredients to make grilled cheese.

He wouldn’t even have noticed it if Dean hadn’t gasped, “C-Cas?”

Cas turns his body slightly to face his flabbergasted fiance, who’s staring straight at the broken window above their sink, “Holy hell! Dean did you do that?”

Quickly, Dean shakes his head, “No.”

Cas closes the fridge swiftly and crosses the kitchen to the window where it's shattered in a way that it looks as if someone threw a rock or a brick in order to crudely enter the house.

Cas glances at Dean, “Dean can you call the police department and report a breaking and entering please? I’m gonna check and see if anything’s been stolen.”

Dean nods once, but when he approaches the phone he stops cold, “Cas-look.”

Cas follows Dean’s gaze to where it rests on a crumpled piece of notebook paper. The sloppy handwriting on the front reads _‘Dear Queers.’_

Dean looks like he’s going to pass out, so Cas ushers him to one of the chairs at the table and picks the paper up himself.

With trembling hands and a quaking voice, Cas begins to read aloud, “ _Dear Queers, I know of your plans to begin what you sick fucks want to call a ‘family.’ You need to know that I won’t allow it. I’m not going to have a child raised by more people like you. I’m going to put a stop to everything, all of this, just watch your backs.”_

“Oh my god,” Dean’s face has turned an ugly shade of green and he appears about ready to kneel over and vomit.

“It’s okay honey,” Cas forces himself to remain calm, “I’m just going to call the police and report this. Then, we’ll talk about possible threats. No backwards traditionalist hick is going to mess this up for us, I promise you Dean.”

“You don’t understand,” Dean groans, dropping his head into his hands, “It’s him.”

“Who?” Cas demands.

“My father.”

“Dean I don’t...I don’t understand. Your father lives in Kansas, you guys don’t even-” he stops mid-sentence, because now it all makes sense. The phone call, Dean’s disturbing behavior, and now the break-in. It’s all coming together, and Cas has never felt more mortified by a discovery.

Dean shakes his head sickly, “ _He’s here_.”


	4. Eyes On The Prize

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: As usual, I warn for descriptions of violence, alcohol abuse, homophobic behavior/slurs, and general mature content. Please read at your own discretion, and please only read what makes you comfortable.
> 
> Thank you for reading/commenting and leaving kudos, it means the world. :)

Dean feels uncomfortable. Cas won’t stop staring at him, and the scrutiny makes Dean shift anxiously under his gaze. So okay, he may or may not have just cryptically blurted out “he’s here” like a line from a cheesy B horror movie, but that doesn’t give Cas a free ticket to stare him down until he can’t sit still anymore.

“Dean,” Castiel speaks in a strained, controlled tone, “What does that mean?”

Dean brings his index finger between his lips and begins nervously chewing on it, “My dad’s not so happy about us. I know I’ve told you before that he’s kinda homophobic but...but-” Dean sucks in a desperate breath and attempts to remain calm, “That’s not even half of it.”

Cas sits across from Dean at the table and stares at him expectantly, “Tell me. Everything Dean, I mean it. You owe it to me.”

Dean knows that Cas is right; after all, Castiel has told Dean everything from his past, and not all of it was pretty. And because of Dean, Cas has been put through a lot of emotional instability, insecurity, and now his house being broken into. Not to mention, all of the crap Cas does for Dean, like helping him buy the art studio, helping him pay for his surgery while being supportive, and soon, adopting a child with him.

At the very least, Dean owes Cas some type of explanation. “I lost my mom when I was little,” Dean says tentatively, biting down hard on his index finger, “I don’t mean she died or anything, she uh, she left after my little brother Sam was born. Guess she couldn’t handle my dad anymore. He had alcoholic...tendencies. Sometimes when he drank he got a little…” Dean struggles to find the right word to describe one of his father’s drunken fits, “Rowdy. He hit her a few times, she got fed up and left.”

Cas’ expression is sympathetic, and Dean wonders if he can get away with stopping the story here. But when he doesn’t continue, Cas shakes his head and mutters, “Please Dean, everything.”

Dean steels himself for a long story, and begins again, “I think after my mom left my dad went from alcoholic jerk to... _psychotic_ alcoholic jerk. He never beat me and Sammy or anything like that, but he was just...a bad father. He didn’t like to settle, so the three of us moved around a lot before landing back in Kansas. He was in between jobs a lot, so I worked part-time trying to provide. I had to make sure Sam ate...which often meant that I didn’t get to. I’ve always had a big appetite, but when I lived with my dad...I probably ate only a few times a week. My dad didn’t eat either really, mostly just drank, which is probably why Sammy is so god damn tall now, much bigger than us. Uh, anyway, my dad and I were never really close, but there _was_ one thing he brought me with him to do.”

Dean really doesn’t want to continue. As he stares up at Cas’ face, his pale blue eyes, broad pink lips and soft cheeks looking so innocent and unknowing, he can’t imagine hurting him. But he knows once Cas finds out the things Dean and his father did to gay men, the same type of things that happened to Cas as a kid, he’s not going to be the same. Cas is going to look at Dean differently, he may not totally dump him because Cas doesn’t have the heart to do that, but he won’t love Dean anymore. He’s going to see Dean as just another homophobic grunt who asserts his masculinity by hurting people, and Dean doesn’t feel like he is any better than those people.

“Go on Dean,” Cas urges gently, “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Dean breathes in response, “You’re going to hate me Castiel.”

Cas’ expression softens even more, “There’s nothing you could ever to do make me hate you. Nothing.”

Dean hopes Cas is serious, because the next words that fly out of his mouth are, “We beat up gay people.”

Cas takes a step back like he’s been slapped, “Huh?”

Dean grits his teeth, “M-my dad, he manipulated me into thinking it was the only way to win his love. Well, I mean it was. I was seventeen, I was just a kid, a stupid naive kid who...who thought his dad was always right. Cas we beat up this one guy...he,” Dean swallows the thick lump in his throat and rasps, “He died.”

Cas stares at Dean like he’s trying to come up with an excuse. Like he’s trying to find a way to justify why his fiance -whom he’s loved unconditionally despite his major character flaws, for three years- would do something as cruel as harm innocent people simply because of their preferences. Cas is trying to piece together the images of Dean beating on some poor helpless man, the same way Cas himself used to get attacked. He’s trying his hardest to still love Dean exactly the same way he did moments ago.

Dean can see that Cas is struggling with this.

“You...you _killed_ somebody?”

Dean internally curses for not having worded it better. Although, he isn’t sure how much his tact would’ve made a difference, “I beat him up, my dad delivered the fatal blow. He did it on accident,” Dean thinks of the proud way his father drove after kicking the man, and amends, “Maybe.”

Cas places his hands flat on the table, and Dean can see his fingers are trembling, “Why didn’t you- you never told me.”

Dean feels physically sick to his stomach at the sight of Cas so disturbed, “I’m sorry. God Cas, I’m so sorry. There’s seriously no excuse for anything, any of this, and I understand how you’re feeling. If you leave, just know that I won’t blame you. In fact, I expect you to. It’s what I would do.” 

Cas inhales shakily, “You and I are different people Dean.”

Dean is slightly confused and guarded, “What’s that mean Cas?”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m going to leave you because of a string of mistakes you made six years ago. When I said I love you unconditionally, I was fucking serious.”

Dean wonders if Cas actually heard him, “I killed someone. I’m not saying I ever enjoyed it Cas, but we have to face it, I hurt people. I am no better than the fucks who used to do it to you.” Dean can see Cas’ hands curl into fists at that, but he keeps going, “You’re stupid if you stay with me. You need to find someone you deserve.”

Cas lifts his now unclenched hands and pinches the bridge of his nose between his two dominant fingers, “Call me stupid Dean, but I’m not leaving you. Obviously this is-this is difficult. But I know why you did it, and I’m not going to hold this over you.”

“Fuck Cas,” Dean pushes his chair out and gets to his feet, “Why are you doing this?”

“I love you Dean, that’s why. I want to marry you, I want to have children with you, I want us to get rid of your dad and move on. Neither of us have great history, but past does not dictate the future, okay? The only way for you and me to work this out if if you try to let it go.”

“ _Let it go_?” Dean demands, “Cas I’m bringing all sorts of unneeded shit into your life. I’m ruining everything, you should go.”

Cas sets his jaw and picks up the telephone, “Dean, I’m not going anywhere. If you feel it necessary to end what we have over this, then feel free to leave.”

When Dean doesn’t move, Castiel dials a number and lifts the phone to his ear.

Dean is frozen still as Cas speaks into the receiver, “Hi, please connect me to the San Diego Police Department.” He gives Dean a reassuring look before saying into the phone again, “Hello yes, my name is Castiel Novak, I live on 9559 E. Laguna Ave. I’d like to report a breaking and entering….no nothing appears to be stolen, but the intruder did leave a note threatening myself and my partner.”

“Okay, thank you so much. Absolutely, yes we’ll be here. Thank you.” the line disconnected and Cas looked towards Dean, “They’re sending an officer over to check it out. Should be here in half an hour.”

“Cas,” Dean manages in a strange voice, “I-I love you.”

A small smile glides across Castiel’s expression fleetingly, and then he’s inches away from Dean, lips beckoning for attention, “I love you too Dean.”

“You shouldn’t,” Dean whispers as Cas pulls him against his chest, running a slightly nervous hand through his hair, “I’m so messed up. You have no idea.”

“Dean you have to stop. You’ve been through a lot...a lot. I don’t even know what else you’re not telling me, but I’m sure there are other things. What matters now is moving on.”

Dean leans down to press a chaste kiss on Castiel’s forehead, forcing himself to smile down at the shorter man, “Out of all the people who could’ve wandered into my life, I’m glad it was you Cas.”

**

 A half an hour later, Dean, Castiel and Sam are sitting on the couch, across from a strangely familiar deputy of police. Dean does not know him, Sam also doesn’t know him, but Cas glares at him with an expression of begrudging familiarity.

“Gabriel,” Cas says in a strained voice to the officer, “May I offer you a beverage?”

Dean is just about to ask how the hell Cas knew the guys name, when Gabriel responds curtly, “No thank you little brother, I’m just here to talk about the queer bashin’ break-in.”

Little _brother_? Dean has never met any of Castiel’s family, and the only members of Dean’s that Cas has met are Sam and Bobby, so this is totally strange. Dean never expected to meet anyone in Cas’ family, because he doesn’t have a relationship with any of them really.

Dean observes the tension between the two brothers and wonders what happened between them. That brings him to the thought of his own brother. Dean had invited Sam over before the officer arrived, he just felt like he needed his brother’s support. He decided not to mention to Sam his suspicions about it being their father, or his anger at Sam for speaking with John.

Dean’s attention returns to the conversation at hand when Cas replies sharply, “Well _you’d_ know a bit about this subject already, wouldn’t you?”

Gabe’s jaw clenches visibly, “Castiel, could we be adults for like _five_ seconds here?”

Cas snarls back quite immaturely, “I don’t know, can we?”

Dean is shocked; he’s never seen Cas acting so childish and petty. Usually Cas is the pinnacle of social etiquette and manners, but now he’s acting like an impolite douchebag.

Gabriel rolls his eyes, “Just shut your kiddy mouth for a second. You know, if you hadn’t left then you would’ve been there to see that things are different now.”

“Hadn’t left?” Cas demands angrily, looking ready to deck Gabe, “Gabriel I don’t care that you came out as bisexual, that doesn’t change the way you and everyone else treated me when I wasn’t smart enough to _hide_ _in the closet_!”

“Cas,” Dean snaps, a little frightened by Castiel’s abrupt shift in mood, “Relax.”

Cas clenches his jaw in a way that is humorously similar to what Gabe just did, and grumbles, “Whatever.”

Gabe’s taken the moment to compose himself, and he spits back, “Fine Cas, be a baby about it. You’ve got to grow up sometime.”

“Excuse me,” Sam cuts in, speaking for the first time since the four of them sat down, “Can we please get back to the psychopath who’s threatening my brother and Cas?”

Gabe winks at Sam and his appreciative gaze is something more than just friendly, “Anything for you tall dark and handsome.” then he looks at Dean, “Alright, do you have any idea who might’ve done this? Maybe someone from your past or an enemy?”

Dean’s mouth is dry; he knows he has to the both the officer and Sam that he suspects John broke in, but he isn’t sure how. The words aren’t coming out.

“Dean,” Cas nudges him gently, “Are you going to tell him?”

“Tell me what?” Gabriel demands, leaning forward with interest that goes beyond his policeman duties.

“John Winchester,” Dean spits out harshly, “It’s John Winchester.”

Sam gasps, staring in horror at Dean, who looks at his feet in shame.

Gabe’s eyes widen comically, and a slight breathy laugh escapes his astonished lips, “That’s impossible Dean.”

“Don’t tell him what’s possible,” Cas growls, “If Dean says it’s John, then it’s John.”

“No, Castiel you don’t understand.” Gabe shakes his head in disbelief, “John Winchester’s been in the South San Diego Minimum Security Prison, for three months. He doesn’t get out for another year and a half. There’s no way he could’ve done this.”

“B-But he called me,” Dean chokes out, “Yesterday, he called and threatened me.”

Gabe curses softly, “I’m guessing he made the call from the prison and had someone else do his dirty work.”

“No,” Cas argues, “It was from a cell phone, a Kansas area code.”

Gabriel ponders this for a moment and says to Dean, “You’re sure the man on the phone was your father?”

“Yes.” Dean says assuredly, “I’m positive. He spoke very clearly, and he told me...he told me very personal things. No one else would know.”

“It’s a long shot,” Gabe says hesitantly, “But there are ways this could’ve been done. He could’ve recorded the call before his arrest and had someone call you and play it yesterday, to warn you about the attack. When is your surrogate due?”

“Four months,” Cas interjects, “So John would’ve been arrested two months after she got pregnant.”

“That was enough time for him to find out and record the call. But if that’s the case, why wait? Why not act on it? I’m sure he didn’t _know_ he was going to prison.” Gabe rubs his forehead, “this is huge, I mean, really huge. I’ve got to return to the precinct and discuss this with my superiors, we’ll have some interrogating to do.” Gabe rises to his feet, and everyone else does the same.

Dean and Cas walk him to the front door, where Cas says gently, “We appreciate this Gabriel.”

“‘Course Castiel. Listen, I don’t want you guys to be here alone, so I’ll get a few officers to rotate a patrol until we get this thing figured out. Expect someone back here to watch the house, in about an hour, and then another to switch out every two hours. Just a precaution. In the meantime, we’re going to figure this big confusing mess out, okay?”

Cas extends his hand, and Gabe shakes it roughly, “Thank you so much Gabe. It was...it was nice to see you again.” Gabe nods tersely, and steps outside.

Dean closes the door behind him, and turns to Cas, who sighs, “So that was my brother.”

Dean chuckles softly as he and Cas return to the living room, where Sam is just getting to his feet.

“Did you know?” Dean inquires sharply, “That Dad was in _prison_? After all, you’ve been talking to him.”

Sam’s face screws up in a confused expression, “Huh? Dean I haven’t talked to Dad since my eighteenth birthday. I had no clue.”

“Are you serious? He lied?" Dean demands, “then...how did he know Cas and I were going to have a baby?”

Cas’ face pales to a ghastly white, “Someone’s watching us.”


	5. Mother May I?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know this chapter is a bit short. But I'll be updating fairly soon, if this story continues to do well.  
> Thank you so much for reading and leaving comments and kudos! It makes me crazy happy! :)
> 
> Enjoy (:

Dean’s mind is a mystery and his thoughts are intangible tornadoes. He wishes he could minimize himself; to shrink out of sight and just be an insignificant piece of dust floating away. His wayward brain keeps focusing and defocusing, making any actual productive thought-process an impossibility. He rolls on his side in bed and stares through the dark. Cas is sound asleep beside him, probably resting easily because there’s an officer patrolling their house outside. Dean however, can only sit idle and watch the rise and fall of Castiel’s chest. He wonders how he got so fucking lucky.

Never in a million years would he expect to end up with someone as incredible as Castiel Novak. Dean is not a quality partner, he’s damaged goods, a broken piece of machinery that will never run right. Cas is a brand spankin’ new Xbox, and Dean is a dusty old Atari.

He turns back over and ends up on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The fan is whirring evenly, a soothing, calm sound that usually lulls Dean to sleep. Tonight it’s distracting and nerve-wracking. The normally relaxing sound of Cas’ loud snores are making Dean’s heart thud unevenly with anxiety. Each breath that puffs out of Dean’s trembling lips is laced with fear. He can’t sleep. He can’t stop his rampant thoughts from running wild.

Silently, he slips out of bed and shuffles quietly down the hall. He knows his movements won’t awaken Cas; Dean has mastered the art of silent deception.

He pads across the house until he reaches the front door, pulling it open and stepping out on to the front porch. He sees the police car parked at the curb, but the officer inside isn’t visible. It takes a moment of squinting through darkness to notice that the officer is Gabriel. Feeling bad that the man has to sit outside and watch his house, Dean waves his arm, gesturing for Gabe to get out and come up to the porch. Moments later, Gabriel is jogging up the pathway of rocks to Cas and Dean’s shared porch. He’s dressed in uniform, but it’s wrinkled from hours of sitting in the same position, and there are bags under his eyes.

“You okay?” he asks as he hops up the steps and approaches Dean.

Dean nods, “Thought you could use a break. Want some coffee?”

Gabriel glances back at the car, and his eyes trail longingly into the open door, “I don’t know…” he replies hesitantly.

“Cas is asleep,” Dean assures him, “And don’t worry, I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Appearing convinced, Gabe nods and follows Dean inside, pulling the door closed behind him. They walk tentatively into the kitchen, and Dean sets about making coffee. The clock above the stove reads 3 A.M. and Dean realizes that he hasn’t seen the officer’s change cars once tonight.

“When do you guys switch out?” he asks as he pours Gabriel a mug and sets out the creamer and sugar.

Gabe laughs sheepishly, “We were supposed to hours ago. I uh...I just decided to go all night for this one.”

Dean knows what that means. He’s been a protective older brother for 23 years, he is familiar with the expression on Gabriel’s face; he sees it every day in the mirror, “You really care about Cas.”

Gabe scratches the back of his neck, “He never had it easy. I mean, none of us really made it easy for him. When he turned eighteen he got out so fast...none of us knew what to do, you know? It was just one of those things we expected, he was always gonna leave in the end. And we were one of those families that deserved desertion, we never acted like a family. Last time any of us saw Cas was years ago at our grandma’s funeral. We got in a huge fight, he and I, and it didn’t end well. But...I mean, what are the fucking odds that I get assigned this case?” Gabe shakes his head ruefully and nurses his coffee, “After seeing him...I can’t lose him again. I always blamed myself for his leaving, I feel like I have a chance to get my baby brother back. If whoever’s doing this hurts Cas…” he shudders, like the simple thought of Cas in danger makes him tongue-tied with horror.

“Your brother is amazing,” Dean admits with reverence, “I’ve never met anyone so...so….unreal. He’s like a dream sometimes, floating above my head in a place too perfect for me to reach. Whatever your family did raisin’ him, didn’t stop him from turning out pretty damn good.”

Gabe offers Dean a tight-lipped smile, “I’m glad he has you.”

Dean snorts, pouring himself a cup of coffee and bringing it to his lips with bemusement, “You shouldn’t be man. I’m no good. My past is trying to hurt him.”

“Maybe so,” Gabe agrees, “But you...you guys are just...perfect. I only met you today Dean, but I know you and my brother are going to be together for a long time. Some people are just supposed to be together. You see it in their body language, in the way they look at each other, even the way they speak around each other. I think what you and Cas have found in one another is really special, and I’m damn glad he’s not letting go of that because of where you come from.”

Dean’s hands are shaking, and he’s afraid the coffee is going to spill. He sets it on the table and replies, “I certainly hope you’re right about that Gabe.”

Gabriel sighs softly and responds, “I do too Dean, otherwise these upcoming weeks are going to be very, _very_ , difficult.” 

**

 

The morning after Dean and Gabriel’s hushed conversation in the kitchen, Sam stops by the house to see Dean. Cas is already gone, at work, and Dean is just finishing rubbing the ointment Dr. Harvelle prescribed him on his infected stitches when he hears the doorbell. He hurriedly buttons his shirt and rushes to the front door, thinking it might be the police with more information on John.

The door opens and Sam steps in, anxiously wringing his hands. His tense, monstrously tall body is rigid and his face is pale with fear.

Dean knows instantly that something happened, “Sam? What’s going on?”

“I went into work today,” he rasps, “There was a note on my desk. I rushed out as soon as I saw it.”

They walk into the kitchen together, and Dean hesitantly asks, “A note?”

Sam nods, “It was anonymous. I-I have it here, look.” he reaches into the pocket of his crisp suit jacket and produces a piece of crumpled notebook paper.

In the same handwriting as Dean’s note had been, the page reads, “ _Sam Winchester, I will not allow you to support your brother’s sick endeavors. If you attempt to provide legal counsel, or any other type of assistance, you will be harmed. Stay out of this, it isn’t your game to lose._”

Dean finishes reading and looks up at Sam in horror, “I...oh my god.”

Sam snatches the note from Dean and responds, “Dean I don’t think it’s dad doing this.”

Dean’s brow cocks sky-high, completely floored, “Are you _joking_? Maybe it’s a little far-fetched that he could be running this from prison, but there’s no way he’s not involved.”

Sam shakes his head, “It just doesn’t make sense to me. Dad was a total jerk, sure, but he...I mean, he never wanted to hurt us.”

“Yeah well that was before he knew I was queer.” Dean retorts sorely, mortified that Sam could even consider letting John get away with this.

“No Dean.” Sam argues, “He’d never hurt you. Maybe he wouldn’t like the fact that you’re gay, but he wouldn’t threaten you this way. And me...Dean can you imagine Dad wanting to hur _t me_? Our entire childhood consisted of him forcing you to look out for me, my well-being is pretty high on his list of important things.”

Dean knows that Sam makes sense, but there’s no other conceivable explanation as to why this is happening, other than John, “then how do you explain the phone call?” he demands.

Sam runs a hand anxiously through his hair, “I’m not sure Dean. Maybe it really wasn’t him. Or, I dunno, maybe he recorded it when he was drunk. Dean, I think we need to open our eyes. Maybe we shouldn’t marginalize this situation to dad’s blatant homophobia. You and Cas, and me I guess, could be in serious danger.”

Dean is about to argue, when the phone rings insistently. He holds a finger up to Sam, and brings the phone to his ear, “Hello?”

“Dean!” Gabriel is breathing heavily, it sounds as if he’s running.

“What is it?” Dean demands.

“I’ve got bad news, and worse news,” Gabe rasps in response, “Not sure which one you want first.”

Dean hesitates, glancing at Sam anxiously before replying, “You pick.”

“Alright, here’s the worse news: Cas is in the hospital. Someone attacked him as he was walking into work.”

Dean nearly drops the phone, and it takes everything in him to stay focused on standing upright, “Attacked? What happened? Is he okay? How serious is it? Who attacked him!?”

“Not sure yet, heading over to the school now to check it out. He’s in San Diego Memorial, you should go see him.”

Dean swallows the lump in his throat, “Great. Just great. Now what’s the bad news?”

“Not sure how you’re gonna take this...but we have a suspect.”

“Well?”

“Someone at the school reported seeing a tall, blonde woman with a weapon. We think that’s who attacked Cas. And...a name is circulating. A name that John mentioned when we interrogated him.”

Dean’s throat feels Sahara dry, but he chokes the words out, “Well? What’s the name?”

Gabe’s voice is a fleeting sound in a spacious abyss of disbelief, “Mary Winchester.”


	6. Allergic To Happy Endings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a little longer to upload than usual, I've had the worst writers block! If anyone knows a cure for it, let me know ahah. :) 
> 
> Warnings for mature content and the usual angsty stuff. 
> 
> Please enjoy, and thank you for reading and commenting :)

There’s a whirlwind of activity surrounding Cas, and he knows he should be more alert, but he can’t seem to drag himself out of the dreamlike state his mind is firmly planted in. He is aware that he’s laying flat on his back in the most uncomfortable twin bed ever, and that there’s something sticking out of his arm, but any other clues to his whereabouts are a mystery.

That is, until he hears Dean’s voice saying, “Cas? Cas! Is he okay?! What the _fuck_ happened?!”

“Dean, relax.” that’s Sam’s voice, “Doctor Harvelle, is he going to be okay?”

“Please, call me Jo. He should be fine. He doesn’t have a concussion luckily, he just got knocked out when the attacker hit him. There’s no blunt force trauma, the only repercussion really is a nasty bruise on his forehead. We’re going to keep him a little longer for observation, but I think you guys should look into help from the law. Whoever did this, really wanted to hurt him.”

Cas is pretty sure they’re talking about him, which only makes this whole situation much more frightening.

Dean again, “When will he wake up?”

“Very soon I’m sure. We placed an IV in his arm to make sure he doesn’t get dehydrated, but if he doesn’t become lucid within the hour we should start to worry.”

“Thank you very much, Doc- ah, Jo.”

“ Not a problem guys. Call me when he wakes up please.”

There’s the shuffle of movement, and then Dean’s voice is very close, “Cas? C’mon baby. It’s me Dean, I’m right here.”

Fingertips brush Castiel’s knuckles in a soothing way, and Cas desperately wants to open his eyes and assure Dean that he’s okay, but his eyelids feel heavy. Too heavy for comfort. He opens his mouth to speak, but only a weak puff of air escapes. He almost wants to sigh at his inability to talk, but then he realizes he can’t even do that. He’s just very tired.

“Are you going to tell him?” Sam’s voice is asking from a little further away.

Dean snorts sarcastically, and replies in a very _“Deanish”_ way, “Yeah Sam, I want to put _more_ stress on him. No, he doesn’t need to know.”

Cas wants to know. He tries to tell Dean to stop protecting everyone and be honest, but once again he is thwarted by his own exhaustion.

“Don’t you think he should know? After all what if it was her who attacked him? _I’d_ certainly want to know the identity of someone who put me in the hospital.”

What? Do they know who put Cas in here? Why isn’t Dean going to tell him?

“Sam we don’t even know if it is her. Dad could just be bluffing to get himself off. Let’s wait until after we talk to him to start framing people.”

They were going to to talk to John? Why? Once more, why the hell isn’t Dean going to tell Cas?

There’s a long pause, and then Sam mutters, “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Dean sighs softly in response, “I can.”

“How? How is this -all of this- not unreal to you?”

“‘Cause Sammy, I can’t have anything. Some people just ain’t meant to have happy lives. I’m one of those people.”

“Don’t Dean, don’t fucking go there. I can’t lose you like this again. Everything is gonna be fine, okay? You do deserve happiness. You’re gonna get it, I promise.”

There’s a cold, bitter chuckle that chills Cas to the bone, and Dean replies harshly, “Don’t go makin’ promises you can’t keep Sammy.”

Cas drifts off to sleep shortly after that, but he thinks he faintly hears Sam respond, “Ain’t no such thing as a promise you _can_ keep. Not in our world.” 

**

Cas awakens to a strange noise. There’s a constant beeping that he hopes isn’t a heart monitor, and someone breathing heavily. His eyes open, very slowly, and he gazes up at the scene before him. Dean is hunched over in a visitors chair, head in his hands as his shoulders tremble. Beside him, as Cas’ ears had alerted him, is a heart monitor, beeping every few seconds. Crap. He’s in the hospital, and Dean looks like he’s crying.

“Dean?” Cas croaks, rubbing his eyes and glancing down at the IV in his arm which protests the movement.

Dean’s head snaps up, and a visible sigh shudders through his entire body, “Cas.” he breathes, moving to kneel right beside him, “you’re awake.”

“Yeah,” Cas chuckles softly, “what the hell am I doing here?”

Dean hesitates, “What do you remember?”

Cas frowns, it seems fragments of his memory have been omitted by some unknown force. He briefly remembers waking up once and hearing Sam and Dean talk about something irrelevant. He does not remember a heart monitor during that conversation, which means his condition has gotten worse. He also remembers an unfamiliar blonde woman hitting him upside the head with a sharp metallic object as he tried to enter the school he works at.

“Some lady hit me,” he replies stupidly, “I’m in the hospital. Crap, I’m not dying am I?”

Dean laughs tersely, “No Cas, you’re not _dying_. You’re gonna be okay. You can get out of here tomorrow.”

“What’s up with the heart monitor? And why are you crying?”

Dean swipes under his eyes, as if that will make Cas think he wasn’t crying moments ago, “It’s regulation Cas, just want to make sure you’re okay. You’ve been asleep for almost a day. And jesus, Cas I’m crying cause… fuck.”

“Dean?”

Dean sighs, scrubbing his hands across his face, “Look they have a suspect. They don’t think it’s my dad doing this. Gabe just called me...they talked in detail with my dad. Apparently, he didn’t make that phone call at all. But, the person who did, knows my dad very very closely.”

Cas is practically on the edge of his bed -uh, metaphorically- with interest, “Well who was it? Who knows your dad that well?”

“My mom.”

“Your mom? Are you _kidding me_?”

“Nope. Apparently they reconnected about a year ago, started talking again. They’ve been friends, you know since before he got arrested, so they’ve been talking a lot. They were even living together for a while. Apparently my dad’s been watching both Sam and me since we moved out. He wanted to make sure we were...okay. He hasn’t revealed how he did that yet. I guess one night he and my mom were drinking, the night we found out our surrogate was pregnant, he recorded that call but never sent it. The next morning, my mom still wanted to send it. She wanted to carry out the plan, but my dad refused. They got in a huge fight and he left. But, she still had the recording. She used computer technology to make the call fit everything I said, like, my dad’s responses. Most of of it was truth, after all he knows me better than I know myself, but she changed some stuff up. They think she’s working alone.”

Cas’ head is spinning, “How the hell did you find all of this out?”

“Gabe just finished interrogating him. He uh..my dad, he wants to see me and Sam.”

“See you?”

“He wants us to visit him in prison I mean.”

Cas hesitates for a moment, but knows he needs to do this, “I’m coming.”

“What? Cas, look I was reluctant to even tell you about this. I don’t think you should-”

“Dean,” Cas snarls with a look of determination evident on his face, “I’m. Coming.”

Dean looks like he wants to argue, but the expression on Castiel’s face shows irrefutable certainty. Cas knows he’s going to get his way, Dean needs him. 

**

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted you to meet my father.” Dean admits teasingly as he gets out of the car.

Sam crosses around and helps Cas out, who thanks him sincerely and says to Dean, “Dean, none of this is how we wanted life to go. You must know that by now I just don’t care.”

Dean sighs and puts an arm around Castiel’s shoulders as they walk up the front path to the prison, “Cas you’ve been out of the hospital two days, I’m not sure this is good for you.”

“And your appendix stitches are infected,” Cas argues, “I’m not sure any of this is good for either of us.”

Sam interjects, pulling the front door open as a whoosh of air conditioning washes over Castiel’s anxious expression, “None of this is good for any of us.” he grumbles, following Dean and Cas inside.

Shortly after, they meet up with Gabriel, who leads them to the visiting room. Cas slips his hand into Dean’s and gives it a reassuring squeeze, but it does nothing to lessen the expression on Dean’s face when he spots John.

Cas has seen countless pictures of John Winchester; photos that Dean or Sam have shown him from their childhood. A quick snapshot of the three of them at a local attraction, a ham-fisted hilarious action shot of him making an unintentional funny face. A crisp, battered military admission photo in which he looks like he’s seen a thousand men die before his eyes.

Cas did not expect the infamous John Winchester to look so...small.

Not necessarily short, or noticeably thin. An average sized man. No, physicaly John is normal. The abnormality of his persona is actually in his face. He looks so disheartened, so drained, it’s almost as if something vital has been taken from him. Perhaps it’s because he’s lost his freedom, or maybe it’s something else, but he is a pathetic sight.

This is very apparent, so Cas wonders why Dean looks so terrified. His face is an ugly pale that makes his freckles stand-out more than usual, almost as if he’s holding his breath. His shoulders are rigid and stiff, chin up, back straight. Dean stands with the stance of a seasoned warrior.

His grip on Cas’ hand tightens just a little. “Well,” he tells Castiel softly, “Time to meet your dad-in-law.”


	7. Bite Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for homophobic behavior and slurs, and general mature content. Please read at your own discretion!
> 
> Thanks very much for leaving kudos and comments and reading, it makes me so happy!
> 
> Please enjoy :)

Countless times Dean has pictured introducing Castiel to his father. He’s invented a million scenarios in his nefarious head in which John pats Dean on the back proudly and says _“this one’s a keeper Dean!_ ” and Dean smiles and pulls Cas in for a big warm hug. He's stayed up late at night, pretending that his father would love Cas; they'd watch football games together, buy each other perfect christmas gifts, and have whispered chats about their love for Dean.

Naturally though, as it always is for Dean, reality turns out to be much crummier.

When they approach the table John’s slumped over, he asks, “So this is him?”

Dean hasn’t seen his father in six years, and Sam four.

“Nice to see you too Dad,” Dean seethes, tucking Cas a little closer to his side, “This is my fiance Castiel.”

“In the flesh,” John muses, then gestures to the empty chairs around him, “Please, sit.”

Dean opts to sit beside John -mostly so Cas doesn’t have to-, Sam doing the same on his other side. Cas and Gabe sit between them, both wearing identical expressions of fleeting anxiety. _Yep_ , Dean thinks, _definitely siblings._

“What’s the cop doing here?” John growls to no one in particular.

“He’s a friend Dad.” Sam explains tersely, “And _we’re_ doing the questioning here, not you.”

“Hmph,” John grumbles, crossing his arms across his beige jumpsuit, “You’ve grown into quite the bossy lawyer type Sammy.”

“Don’t you dare,” Sam snarls through gritted teeth, “You lost the right to call me that a long time ago.”

“Lay off Sam,” Dean snaps, “You know it’s hard for Dad to function when he’s _sober._ ”

John is surely about to whip back a scathingly homophobic retort, but Gabe cuts in, “We do have more important matters to discuss guys.”

“Don’t you tell my sons what to do you fucking pig,” John spits, “You have no lines in this play.”

Dean expects Gabe’s sharp tongue and attitude to get the best of him, but he simply rolls his eyes and clamps his mouth shut, submissive and silent. John can have that effect on people.

“Look,” Dean begins, “We need to know about a few things. First of all, how did you know Cas and I were adopting a baby?”

John sighs softly, “Dean, you moved out when you turned eighteen and took Sam with you two years later. I couldn’t just...just watch my boys disappear forever. You two were the most important things in my world.”

Dean glances sideways at Sam, who looks ready to scream: _objection! Alcohol is the most important thing!_

The younger Winchester remains silent.

 John continues, “I hired someone. Pamela Barnes, she’s been keeping an eye on you two since you left. She’s only been watching you and reporting to me what you do. That’s _all_. She’s not apart of this...this whatever your mom is doing here.”

Dean shakes his head in disbelief, “You hired someone to _stalk_ us?”

John’s scowl somehow deepens, “Yes Dean. I care about you and your brother. Of course there are things she neglected to tell me, like you’ve clearly stopped working out. How are you going to protect yourself if you're all flabby?"

Dean bites the inside of his cheek to keep the snide remark from spewing out of his lips. The last thing he wants to do right now is make his father uncooperative.

Cas finally speaks, “Easy.” he mutters to John brazenly, defending Dean, who’s been sensitive about his weight since he settled down.

John’s head snaps calculatingly towards Cas, and he enunciates, “Read my lips _faggot_ ; you and your police friend do not get to participate. This is between me and my wayward sons.”

“Your fucking wife attacked him!” Dean shouts, “he has every right to tell you to shut your mouth!”

“Okay let’s all calm down,” Sam interjects, glancing nervously at the unsettled guards that are watching intensely, specifically their table, “Dean relax. We’re here for information.”

John grumbles angrily at Dean, “She is _not_ my wife.”

“Can we get back on track here?” Gabe cuts in, glaring at John, his attitude renewed, “John, where is Mary now?”

John sighs, seeming to accept the fact that he’s going to have to deal with Cas and Gabe’s input, “I don’t know. When I left, you know after we got into the fight about the recording, we were in Lawrence Kansas. I stayed, went down to Kansas City, but she said she was going to New York. Obviously she lied about that, and she’s here in California, but where she’s living I don’t know.”

Gabe rubs his chin and gets to his feet, “I’m gonna get a search ordered and put out an APB on her. We’re going to rove every possible residence in San Diego and see any homes registered to Mary Winchester.”

“She might use her maiden name, she went back to it after our divorce I think.” John explains quickly, “Mary Campbell. Try one of her alias’ too: Katie Tyler.”

Gabe nods eagerly, “Right. I’ll get back to you guys. See you Sam.” he pats Sam’s shoulder affectionately before leaving, making a pink blush blossom across the taller man’s cheeks.

“You fucking him?” John demands, staring accusingly at Sam, “Didn’t know you were queer too.”

“I’m not,” Sam snaps defensively, running an anxious hand through his hair, “I’m straight and he’s just a friend. Don’t be a jerk. L-like I said, we’re questioning _you_.”

“Whatever.” John mutters under his breath.

“I have a question.” Cas pipes up, eyeing John carefully.

John gives Cas a warning look before saying, “What?”

“Instead of hiring a stranger to stalk your sons and report their every move to you, why didn’t you try to reconnect with them? Why didn’t you apologize for being such a shitty father, accept them the way they are, and try to make it up? If you love them so much, why didn’t you put forth an effort?”

John narrows his eyes and his face sours, “They didn’t want me.”

Cas sits leans forward in his seat and responds, “They would’ve if you tried.”

John looks helplessly at Dean, and then to Sam, but it appears that he’s got no articulate response to the truth Castiel has just dropped on him.

All he can manage, is a weak, “Whatever.”

**

Dean and Cas arrive home a half hour later, both tense and anxious for more development in the search for Mary.

“Do you think we should look into this Pamela lady?” Cas asks as he flops down on the couch beside Dean.

“No use,” Dean shakes his head, “She’s had to stop watching us I’m sure, he can’t pay her from prison.”

Cas leans towards Dean and curls up against his chest, listening to the rise and fall of Dean’s heart. Dean swallows and curls a hand in Cas’ thick hair, running his fingers soothingly over the shorter man’s scalp.

“Thank you,” Dean finds himself whispering, “for...for being you. Everything you are.”

Cas’ voice is sincere and earnest, two things that come rarely from the people in Dean’s life, “I love you so much Dean. I can’t stand that this is happening to us. I just want you to be happy, you know that right?”

“I know, and they know who’s doing it. They’re gonna find Mary, it’s all gonna be okay...I-I love you too Cas.”

This used to be hard for Dean, proclaiming his love for Cas. He’s known that Cas is the only one for him since they first met, but it took him so long to get here. To get so comfortable that he can promise Cas, assure him with complete confidence, that they’re going to stay together forever. Dean has no intention of leaving, and Cas has proven he feels exactly the same.

This moment would usually lead up to some steamy, rough sex, but neither of them are in the best medical shape, so they just end up cuddling close on the couch, ordering pizza, and watching some crappy remakes of old movies.

It’s the best night Dean’s had since all of this crap started happening, and he finally feels like things are going to turn out okay. Halfway through the newest version of ‘ _Evil Dead’_ Dean falls asleep with Cas draped across his chest, content.

This is what love is, he knows it, and he's going to make it last. No matter what.


	8. Baby Come Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for minor character death. Won't be very emotional.  
> Mostly fluff, promise to get the interesting stuff started up again pretty soon. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and commenting and kudos and blah blah, thank you! :)
> 
> Enjoy

Time begins to pass effortlessly. Things between Dean and Cas slowly revert back to normal. Dean’s stitches are out in a week, and he’s back in the studio every day painting. Cas returns to work as well, cleared of any medical repercussions. Weeks pass, nothing further from Mary. Weeks melt into months, and soon enough, three months have come and gone. The patrol around Cas and Dean’s house ceases to appear, the aura of danger that constantly surrounded them months before disappears completely. Things take a complete turn. Cas and Dean are busily preparing for the arrival of their baby, which is due in less than two weeks. The nursery stocked, every parenting book known to man read, and nervous anticipation curling around them; Dean and Cas are ready.

Dean is really beginning to believe that his mother has given up. Perhaps knowing the police were on to her was enough to make her back off. He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care, he is just glad that his life is becoming good again. Dean and Cas are closer than ever. They spend all of their free time together, talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. If these past few months have proven anything to Dean, it’s that he and Cas really are meant to be. Fuck him “not being able to have happiness”, Dean is going to get it. Cas is going to give it to him.

He hasn’t seen his father since their first visit, and quite frankly, that means nothing to him. He didn’t expect much from John, and the man still let Dean down, so let him rot alone in prison, Dean just does not care. He is going to focus on himself, and Cas, and their baby.

It happens on a normal day. Dean and Cas have both just gotten home. Cas is sitting at the table while Dean makes something for dinner. It’s shaping up to be a leftover night; they’re both exhausted. Dean just wants to eat his dinner, maybe get a blowjob, and fall asleep beside Cas.

As soon as the phone rings, he knows his night is going to be much different than he’d hoped.

Cas puts it on speaker before answering, “Hello?”

“Is this Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester?” an unfamiliar voice asks hesitantly.

Cas glances at Dean cautiously before replying, “Yes. Who is this?”

“This is San Diego Memorial Hospital. We understand you two were going to adopt a child through surrogacy from one of our patients.”

“Oh my god,” Dean’s jaw drops, “What’s going on?” he calls into the phone.

“Your surrogate, a young woman named Rebecka Rosen, was shot three times this morning.”

When neither Cas nor Dean can muster an answer, the woman continues, “Unfortunately, Ms. Rosen did not make it. But, your baby was delivered by Cesarean Section. It’s a little girl, she was born at ten thirty this morning. We’ve got her stabilized, in the NICU.”

“Someone _shot_ Becky?” Dean demands, as if he didn’t just hear anything she said.

“Yes, she was shot three times in the back walking out of her home.”

“Who would shoot a pregnant woman?” Cas chokes out, “Who did it? She’ _s dead_?”

“Look sir, I’m not a police officer. I’m just trying to tell you that you’re parents. Are you going to come down, sign the papers and see your daughter or not?”

“Yes,” Dean says quickly, trying to regain his composure, “We’ll be down there as soon as possible.”

“Thank you. Goodbye.”

The line disconnects, and they’re left staring at each other.

“Well..” Dean says softly, “We should probably go right?”

Cas shakes his head in disbelief, “I-I need a second here.”

Dean nods in understanding. He only met Becky a few times, but Cas had a different relationship with her. They were friends before she even offered to surrogate for them, without compensation as well. She was seriously sweet.

“You know who did it, don’t you?” Cas asks after a silent moment.

Dean sucks in a deep breath through his teeth, “This is why we haven’t heard from Mary in months. She’s been planning this.”

“She fucking killled Becky. She almost killed our...fuck Dean.”

“I know Cas,” Dean crosses around the table and gathers Cas up into his arms, stroking the shorter man’s arm soothingly, “Look we’re gonna get her.”

“We’re not!” Cas is crying now, which startles Dean. Cas so rarely cries, but now his face is tear streaked and his cobalt eyes are liquidy, “She’s never going to stop!”

“Cas,” Dean is shocked, “You’re crying?”

“Becky is dead and it’s our fault Dean!” he sobs brokenly.

Dean grabs Castiel’s face between his hands, jerking his head up so he has no choice but to lock eyes with him, “Listen to me Castiel.” he says sternly, “This is _not_ our fault. This is the work of an insane woman, we did not do this to Becky. Cas, hey look at me, we did not kill Becky. We didn’t know, nobody knew. It’s nobody’s fault except Mary’s.”

Cas sniffles, swiping his sleeve under his eyes as he stares at Dean in bewilderment, “Since _when_ are you not blaming yourself for every little thing?”

Dean chuckles slightly, helping Cas to his feet and pressing a kiss to his wet cheek, “We’re parents now Cas. Gotta grow up sometime.”

**

Dean probably should’ve called Sam. After all, he’s the lawyer handling the adoption. And although Cas seems to understand the paper he’s signing, Dean doesn’t even read it. He’s too eager to see their daughter. After the documents are signed, he takes Cas’ hand, and a nurse leads them to the NICU. They aren’t allowed to go in, but they stand outside looking through the window at the incubated babies.

The nurse, a perky redhead named Charlie, points to the crib nearest the window, “There she is. That’s your daughter.”

It takes everything Dean has not to press his face against the glass and coo like a kid outside a toy store.

“She’s perfect,” Cas whispers, and it’s fucking true.

Cas and Dean decided they didn’t want to know who the biological father is, they both gave Becky specimen to Becky in some weird Cas-Dean cocktail and let nature run it’s course. Of course, it might be difficult to tell since Becky and Dean both have sandy blonde hair and green eyes, -er, Becky _had_ \- but Dean doesn't care. She’s his, no matter what. She was never anyone elses, she’s always been his and Castiel’s. She’s laying on her side, eyes open to reveal dazzling blue topaz eyes. There’s a light spray of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and her hair is a medium brown, almost like a mixture of Cas’ and Dean’s. Huh.

“Who do you think it is?” Dean asks Cas quietly.

Cas shakes his head, “Honestly- I can’t tell.”

Dean grins, “She’s exactly what we wanted.”

“Is she healthy?” Cas asks Charlie, who’s smiling at them like she just watched two people win the lottery.

She nods, “She should be okay. Obviously her birth wasn’t under ideal circumstances, and she is a little premature. Keeping her in the NICU is just a precaution, should any problems arise in the next few hours. We want to keep her under observation for a few days, but really, you two can take her home on Friday.”

“Two days,” Cas whispers, clutching on to Dean’s arm excitedly.

“Now I know you guys already signed the adoption agreement papers,” the nurse produces a clipboard from quite literally, nowhere, and hands it to Dean, “But you still have to fill out her birth certificate.”

The words are blurry before Dean. He signs his name under the parents section, and Cas does the same. They fill out the entire form, but when they get to the line for the baby’s name, they both freeze.

“Oh my,” Cas manages, “We don’t have a name.”

“Shit that’s like the most important thing,” Dean’s brows furrow, “How did we forget that?”

“Well, you two better come up with something,” Charlie chuckles, crossing her arms expectantly.

Cas looks helplessly to Dean, “I have absolutely no idea Dean.”

Dean sighs, “Well...I’ve got one that I’ve been messing around with for a while.”

“The suspense is killing me,” Cas urges, “Spit it out.”

“Okay,” Dean sighs, “So remember last year how you were rereading Romeo and Juliet with one of your classes and you made me sit through that awful remake with Leonardo Dicaprio and Claire Danes?”

Cas frowns, “God you don’t like _Juliet_ do you?”

“Ugh no, that’d be tacky. Anyway, it turns out I uh...really appreciated Claire’s acting abilities. And well, I’ve been kind of obsessed with her since then. I was thinking...what if we name her Claire?”

Cas grins, “I like it. It’s pretty. Okay, so first name..Claire. Middle?”

“I picked the first name, you can pick the middle.”

Cas shifts on his feet nervously, before replying, “Rebecka, after her mom.”

Dean nods in agreement, “Good Cas. I like that.”

“And…” Cas’ face blossoms a bright cherry red, “The last name?”

Dean shrugs, “Screw it, throw a hyphen in there and put both of ours.”

Cas finishes scribbling on the clipboard, and hands it back over to Charlie.

She skims the page and then smiles, “Well, you guys can take Claire Rebecka Winchester-Novak home in two days. Visiting hours are from 9-5 every day, so if until then you want to come see her, feel free. Nice to meet you and congrats.” Charlie shuffles away, leaving Dean and Cas alone, staring through the window.

“A baby born of tragedy,” Cas mutters softly, “We didn’t exactly set her up for a positive beginning.”

Dean leans down to press a comforting kiss against Castiel’s lips, and tucks him tight against his chest, “Cas, she’s with us. We’re going to give her the best life she could ask for, okay? After we leave, I’ll give Gabe a call and let him know what happened. Mary’s going behind bars, even if it kills me.”

Cas shudders, hugging Dean just a bit tighter, “Careful what you wish for. Please.”


	9. Family Reunion: Winchester Style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think any warnings are necessary for this chapter, it's pretty safe.  
> Mostly just tooth-rotting fluff and some NSFW bits -that will be important later- *suggestive winking*
> 
> Thank you for reading and commenting and all the nice stuff you do for me! Love!
> 
> Enjoy :)

Cas is in love.

He’s only felt this sort of affection once, and that is with Dean. Cas loves Dean, he wants to spend the rest of his life with Dean. But Claire is something else. The moment Nurse Bradbury passes her over to Cas, letting him cradle the two day old baby in his arms, his heart combusts. She’s all chubby hands and flushed pink skin, cooing softly up at him. He pulls her a little tighter against his chest, and she looks up at him with those sparkling blue eyes, so full of wonder, that he is sure he can never let her go.

“Oh my god,” Dean practically purrs behind him, reaching around Castiel’s shoulder to cup Claire’s dark head of hair, “Oh my god.” he repeats softly.

“Dean she’s ours,” Cas manages to whisper, still in awe, “She’s completely ours.”

Charlie chuckles, crossing her arms across her chest, “You guys are never gonna get tired of her are you?”

“Not ever.” Dean assures her, grinning down at the baby with unsolicited incredulity, “She’s our little miracle.”

**

Dean offers to drive home, because Cas can’t bring himself to put Claire down. She’s so cute and cuddly and lovable and all his.

When they reach the house, Dean insists on holding her because Cas still hasn’t let him. With hesitance, he hands her over and Dean cradles her expertly against his torso.

“Everyone’ll be here in a half hour,” Dean murmurs softly, pressing a feather-light kiss to Claire’s forehead, “We should probably get ready.”

Cas nods; they’ve invited their closest friends and family over to see Claire. Being surprisingly private people, the only ones Dean and Cas have invited are Sam, Gabriel -at his insistence- Bobby and his wife Ellen, and Dean’s best friend Benny. Becky was supposed to come too, being as she was one of Cas’ friends (and Claire’s birth mother) but...well, nothing to do about that now.

As Dean brings Mary upstairs to change her out of the hospital’s onesie and into a very fluffy one that Cas himself sewed, Cas thinks about Mary. She’d been quiet for three months, biding her time, planning murder. Cas was horrified at the news of Becky’s death; he knows she’d still be alive, laughing and obsessing over her favorite book series if it wasn’t for him and Dean. Although Cas is glad Dean’s stopped blaming himself for his parent’s actions, he can’t help feeling very responsible for her demise.

And he’s absolutely _terrified_ of Mary Winchester. He’s been trying to play as cool as he can, so Dean doesn’t freak out as well, but he hasn’t been sleeping right in months, plagued with nightmares of her. The woman attacked him with the intent of seriously hurting him, maybe even killing him, just because he likes men. Cas knows that she is not a normal homophobic person; she’s definitely got something wrong _upstairs_. At least John -bastard that he is- cares about his kids lives. At least he doesn’t hate gays enough to try and hurt Dean, or Cas, or..Claire. Claire could’ve been killed in Becky’s murder. Had she not been brought into the hospital fast enough...Dean and Cas would be without a friend, and a baby. Does Mary know she didn’t succeed in the death of Claire? If so...will she try to hurt her again?

No. Cas is not going to let that happen. Not to his baby. Not his Claire. Jesus, he’s had her for twenty minutes and already he’d give his life for her. Despite possibly not being her biological dad, he knows without a doubt that she is his daughter more than she’d ever be Becky’s. He’s loved Claire even before she was born. When Becky brought him her six month ultrasound scan and let Cas feel her belly, where Claire had been happily kicking against his hand -making him cry of course- he’d fallen in love.

Cas is her father in more ways than biology, he knows it already.

**

Everyone arrives shortly after. Dean has made his classic homemade mac n’ cheese, coupled with grilled chicken and his favorite apple pie. That’s one thing Cas loves about him; if there’s a celebration, Dean’s going to cook.

Bobby and Ellen arrive first. Cas hasn’t seen them in a few weeks, and it’s nice to reconnect. He and Ellen chat for few minutes before Dean rouses Claire from her light nap and brings her downstairs.As soon as Bobby spots her, swaddled up in a soft white blanket and curled up against her daddy, he melts from gruff, life-hardened mechanic into squealing grandfather.

“Jesus she’s a beauty!” he coos, suppressing a giggle as Dean passes her over, and Bobby’s bearded face contorts into an effervescent grin.

“Wow,” Ellen murmurs, leaning over Bobby’s shoulder to admire the baby, “Which one of you dorks is the biological dad?”

Cas grimaces, “We have no idea. That’s what we wanted.”

“Well this kid looks like a Cas and Dean cocktail, nicely done with the choice in surrogacy. She’s adorable guys.”

“What’s her name?” Bobby asks eagerly, cuddling Claire a little closer into his plaid overshirt.

“Claire,” Dean responds like a teenage girl gossiping, “After Claire Danes.”

“Dean you snob,” Ellen laughs.

Dean shrugs, “Guilty.”

“Heya Claire Bear,” Bobby purrs, rocking her gently against him. She makes a happy sound and swings a chubby little fist at him. He laughs a hearty, genuinely pleasant sound as he dodges it, “Just like your daddy.”

**

About ten minutes after the arrival of Bobby and Ellen, Sam and Gabriel show up -suspiciously in the same car- and they practically rip each other’s throats out to get their hands on Claire while Dean and Cas grin proudly. Sam, being at least a foot taller, ends up winning. But, that doesn’t stop Gabe from elbowing his way into Sam’s side, forcing the bigger man to hold Claire close enough for them both to see. Both men seem completely comfortable and used to standing so close with each other, which makes Castiel wonder where Gabe’s been spending his free time with.

Benny arrives last, as usual, and he’s all charming southern drawl and brilliant blue eyes that make Cas’ knees tremble. Don’t get him wrong, Dean is the most beautiful man Cas has ever seen, but if he’s had a fantasy about someone else, it’s Benny.

And he’ll even admit, he once _pleasured_ himself to the thought of Benny’s deeply sun tanned skin and Cajun dialect. It was when he and Dean were on a break, but that doesn’t mean he’s not ashamed and completely flustered around both of them at once.

Benny is very quiet in the way he takes Claire from Gabe’s arms and tucks her close. He smiles down at her, and Cas has to glance away before his thoughts turn filthy.

"Lookit this,” Benny shakes his head teasingly, “prettiest little baby I’ve seen in all my years. You guys did somethin’ right here, didn’t ya?”

“You bet your ass we did,” Dean grins, pride shining through on his handsome features. Cas has never been so happy, especially because Dean looks genuinely happy. Cas hasn’t seen him look like this much, even recently when things have been calm. He’s just so fucking glad that things are looking up. The police are looking for Mary, and everything is going to be okay.

The doorbell rings, and Dean frowns at Cas, “You invite anyone else?”

Cas shakes his head, “No. Just everyone here.”

Dean nods, “Maybe it’s a delivery or something.”

Confident in Benny’s ability to properly watch Claire without Dean and Cas present, he follows Dean down the hall and to the front door. Dean hesitates slightly, but then pulls the door open.

“Hey guys,” John Winchester says with a tentative smile, “Guess who got furlough!”


	10. Pumped Up Kicks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence and mentions of death and graphic violence and imagery. Read at your own discretion! Muah!   
> Much love for all the support, thank you a bunch! :)
> 
> (PS the title of this chapter DOES come from the song Pumped Up Kicks by Foster The People. I felt like it was pretty relevant. Love that band!)

After a very thorough, tight-lipped explanation from John of what furlough was (his crime had been minor and his behavior good, so he’d been granted a weekend break to meet his grandchild) Dean lets him in. Apparently Gabriel had accidentally let it slip around some of the prisoners that she’d been born, and John, hearing the news, suffered the grueling process of applying and eventually being allowed furlough.

Dean had wanted to be angry. He wanted to scream that his father isn’t welcome here, but his dad has nowhere else to stay -Sam swears to god his pullout couch is broken, but Dean suspects he just doesn’t want John to see who’s he’s been spending his nights with. A certain, snarky police officer maybe- so Dean reluctantly offers his father the guest room upstairs. This all takes place after Dean leads his father out into the living room, where every guest there turns with disdain towards him. They’ve all met him before. Benny when he and Dean were in high school, Bobby and Ellen when Dean first moved to California and had a crap job as a mechanic at Singer Auto. John had paid him a visit, but Dean declared he didn’t want to see his dad, so Bobby and Ellen didn’t let him past the front office. And of course, Sam, Cas and Gabe have all met him.

Things are awkward. Very awkward.

But, things start to return to normal as John cradles Claire against him and murmurs, “Hey there kiddo. I’m your grandaddy.”

“Technically,” Bobby mutters, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring.

John turns sideways to face the other man, still clutching Claire, “What’s that supposed to mean old man?”

“Who you callin old man!”

“Okay,” Dean steps in between them, taking Claire from John and caressing her head gently, “No fighting in front of my kid.”

“That’ll be hard in this family,” Sam mutters, and Dean sighs.

**

The first night, is a hard one. Cas gets up to soothe Claire’s crying at least ten times. If she’s not hungry, she’s soiled her diaper, or she’s just lonely. After one of her more calm episodes, Cas flops back into bed beside Dean, who stirs awake, “She okay?” he mumbles.

Cas nods drearily, “Just needed some love.”

“I’ll get her the rest of the night,” Dean promises, glancing at his bedside clock, which tells him it’s 2:00 AM.

"Thank you Dean, g’night…” Cas is already asleep by the time he finishes that sentence. The next time Claire’s loud shrieks pierce through the house, it takes Dean a few minutes to actually wake up. He rolls sideways and slides tiredly out of bed. It’s 2:30 now, but Claire’s screams are unrelenting. Dean pads down the hall and pulls the nursery door open, stopping in his tracks as he realizes he and Claire are not alone.

His mother is standing over the crib, the lock on the window crudely ripped off. Her tangled blonde hair has been chopped off lazily, and it blows around her chin with the wind that whips in from outside. Dean hasn’t seen his mother since he was very, very young. For a brief second, he forgets that she’s insane. For this moment she’s just his mom, the woman who made him, who cared for him until he was a few years old.

Then, she turns to him, wielding a 44 Glock handgun, and he forgets both of those things.

“What are you doing?” He demands, speaking over Claire’s loud cries.

“Fucked up the first few times,” she shakes her head wildly, her voice crazed as she points the gun at his face, “but I’ve got it now baby. I’m gonna take you all out. End this once and for all.”

Dean raises his hands defensively, trying to keep calm. He sincerely wishes Cas would wake up, hear them and call 911, but he’s been up all night and the chances of him becoming lucid are slim to none.

“What the hell is going on here?” Dean turns sideways to see John standing in the doorway, sleep tousled black hair in his eyes.

“Dad?” Dean manages.

“I came in because nobody was checking on Claire,” John explains tentatively, eyes locked on Mary’s gun, “What the hell are you doing Mary Ann?”

“Shut up John,” she spits, hands trembling on the gun. She glances behind her at the crib, and back towards her son and ex husband, “Okay neither of you move.” Holding the gun at them with one hand, she leans behind her into the crib.

Dean lurches forward, but stops when she cocks the gun aggressively, “Don’t touch her,” he chokes, “She’s two days old Mary. She’s done nothing.”

“And neither has Dean,” John adds in roughly.

“What?” Mary demands, swinging the gun towards him, “You’re _okay_ with this lifestyle?”

John’s teeth grind together audibly, “Being locked in a cell for months will give you some perspective. I may not be fully supportive or understanding of why Dean’s gay, but Mary he’s my fucking son. We have to try.”

If Dean wasn’t so worried about Claire’s safety, he’d probably be touched at his father’s change of heart.

“You’re one to talk!” Mary snaps, finger dancing on the trigger, “You beat up queers for years, and brought Dean with you! You killed one, so fuck off with _trying_. Hypocrite.”

“Mary-” John starts, but she cuts him off again.

“Be quiet! I can’t hear myself think with this kid screaming. I’m gonna pick her up, and if either one of you fucking _moves_ I’ll crush her windpipe.”

Dean has to physically force himself to remain still as Mary scoops Claire up with one arm and bobs her awkwardly, holding a gun to her son and his father with the other. Every instinct in his body wants him to rush forward and grab Claire from her, and it’s almost _painfu_ l to stand idle while this insane woman cradles his baby to her chest. Claire lulls to sleep after a moment of surprisingly skillful rocking on Mary’s part, and she mutters, “Don’t look so surprised Dean, I’ve got two kids of my own.”

“And look how well you did with _that_ ,” Dean snaps, hands curling into fists.

Mary whips the gun around again and steps a little closer, the barrel inches away from his forehead, “I should kill you right now.”

“Why?” Dean demands, “What have I done?”

Mary’s lower lip trembles, “I always hated you, you know that? You acted just like your fucking dad. At least the other one, Sam, had his own personality. You were like your dad’s fucking dummy. You wanted to be like him so badly. Well news flash Dean: he’s a bastard.”

“Is that what this is about?” Dean inquires incredulously, “Because I idolized my father as a kid without knowing what a prick he was to you and other people? I have a newsflash for _you_ Mary, every kid does that.”

Claire squeals and bats a fist at Mary’s face. Mary dodges it and glares down, “I fucking hate kids.” she snarls.

“You killed her mother,” Dean says slowly, “You murdered the nicest, most generous person I’ve ever met. You tried to kill an unborn baby. Mary, you need help.”

“Shut it!” Mary growls, hands shaking even harder on the gun.

“Mary,” John says gently, “Put the gun away. Let’s talk about this without weapons, okay?”

“John if you don’t shut your stupid pompous mouth I swear to god I’ll fill it with bullet casings.”

“Alright alright,” Dean intervenes, “Mary, stop procrastinating. Tell me what you want. Why are you here?”

Mary meets his eyes, and for a second he thinks he sees a flicker of something humane. But then, the slight ounce of kindness vaporizes, and she stares at him with a crazed delirious expression, “I’m here to kill you all.”

Dean hesitates, “Then why haven’t you?”

Mary is about to reply, but a hushed voice from a few rooms over stops her cold.

All three adults in the room listen intently, and Dean can just make out Castiel’s voice whispering, “Gabe...she’s _here_! Yes. Seriously, hurry!”

Mary’s eyes are alight with what Dean would call a “totally nutso look” and she drops Claire to the carpet.

Luckily, John had been inching forward this whole time, and he dives forward to catch the infant just before she hits the floor. Her head cradled in his palm, he scrambles to his feet and passes her over to Dean, who lets his breath out in a heave and squeezes her tight to his chest.

“It’s okay baby,” Dean whispers to her, hugging her as if he’ll never touch her again. Then he looks up to Mary, who’s paralyzed, “It’s over. The police are coming.”

Mary shakes her head swinging the gun between Dean and John desperately, “No!” she cries, “it isn’t fair! It’s not fair what happened to me! I lost everything!”

“You left,” Dean reminds her, as he hears police sirens screeching down the street.

“Because of him!” Mary screams, shaking the gun in John’s direction, “I should kill you!”

“Go ahead,” John replies stoically, “I’ve got nothing left.”

Mary looks back at Dean, “Except him.”

She sucks in a visible breath, pointing the gun at Dean, and before anyone can move, she pulls the trigger.


	11. An Exercise in Futility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for character death and emotional sap! Much love, please enjoy!
> 
> Note; I won't be ending this story. My updates have been slow because my classes have started up again and I'm up to my neck in homework! Never fear though, I'm not finished with this piece just yet. I'll let you know before the story comes to an end. 
> 
> Love xoxo.

John doesn’t scream when the bullet penetrates his abdomen. As he jumps in front of his son to shield Dean and Claire from the shot, he is silent. In fact, it’s Dean who’s screaming, and Claire right after him. John falls limp on his side, Luckily, Gabe picks this moment to be a punctual bastard, and he bursts in armed, followed by his colleagues. Mary seems to be in shock -although this isn’t her first time shooting someone- and she keeps calling John’s name. The police cart her away while she’s screaming unintelligible words. Cas runs in from the next room, and embraces Dean and Claire, who are frozen.

The police had luckily brought an ambulance with them in case anyone got shot, so the paramedics quickly load John up on a gurney and cart him out to the van. Sirens whirring, they drive away, leaving Dean, Cas and Claire alone on the sidewalk. Everything happens so fast, Dean doesn’t even get a chance to ask where his parents are being taken. He and Cas return to the house, shaken and frightened, and tend to Claire’s needs. Cas changes her diaper, Dean makes her a bottle, and they both sit down at the kitchen table while he feeds her.

“Are you okay?” Castiel asks him after a minute of the only noise being Claire’s soft sucking sounds.

Dean swallows, “I’m not sure. My mom tried to kill me. My dad might be dead.I don’t know where either of them are. I don’t think so.”

Cas nods a few times and then asks, “He took the bullet for you.”

It’s not really a question, but Dean answers it anyway, “Yes.”

“Why?”

The lump in Dean’s throat cannot be swallowed away, “He said he had nothing to live for. He was going back to prison anyway. I guess he figured he’d at least save his son and granddaughter. And...and he told her that he’s changed. He wants to try to support us.”

A small smile crosses Castiel’s face, “Really? That’s a big stride Dean. You should be happy.”

Dean nods, “Yeah Cas, it’s huge. But...I just wish he didn’t have to get shot for me to hear it.”

Cas leans forward and strokes Dean’s hand soothingly, “It’ll be alright Dean. I promise. We’ve made it this far. They have Mary now. Your dad will be fine. We’re all gonna be okay. Right now, we need to get some sleep, and so does our baby, and tomorrow we’ll work everything out.”

“Thanks Cas. I love you.”

“I love you too honey.”

Together they put Claire down to sleep, and they return to their room to attempt resting. Claire doesn’t interrupt them for the rest of the night, but Dean’s plagued by nightmares of his parents. His eyes are open the second the sun rises. He clamors out of bed and strips out of his sweaty pajamas, yanking on a pair of jeans and a gray henley. He stuffs his feet into some shoes, and grabs his keys, scribbling a note for Cas on the way out. He kisses the sleeping Claire goodbye, and rushes out into the dawn light. On his way to the hospital, he calls Sam. Sam alerts him that Gabe has already told him everything, and the brothers agree to meet at the hospital to see John.Dean feels guilty for a moment for not bringing Cas, but then he pushes that thought away. This isn’t for Cas, this is something Dean and his brother and his father need to do.

This is family business.

He and Sam reach the hospital minutes apart from each other, and they ask the receptionist if John is there. Much to their relief, he is. He’s in the ICU, but she allows them to visit him when Sam puts on his flirty eyes and gives her his number.

“Nicely done Sammy,” Dean compliments on the elevator ride up, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Gabriel about that.”

Sam’s face flushes tomato red, “Don’t be stupid. You can tell him. It’s not like there’s anything going on between us.”

“Alright,” Dean says, removing his cell phone and pretending to dial Gabe’s number, “Let me just get him on the ph-”

“No!” Sam snatches the phone from Dean’s grasp and Dean grins proudly.

“You’ve totally got the hots for Cas’ cop brother.”

“Shut up Dean! No I don’t.”

“Aw it’s okay Sammy, I see where you’re coming from. The Novak’s have great genetics.”

“Gabriel’s last name is Milton,” Sam mutters grumpily as he tosses the phone back to Dean.

“You even know his whole name,” Dean clucks his tongue teasingly, “Don’t worry about it, you weren’t fooling anyone anyway.”

Sam tells him to shut up again, and the doors open slowly. The brotherly, teasing atmosphere seems to vanish as they step into the intensive care unit. It’s like something out of a horror movie, frankly. People dying and moaning without an ounce of privacy, crying out for help and bleeding on bedsheets. Frantic doctors and nurses pool around, but for most of them, it’s apparent there’s nothing they can do. Dean grimaces as he thinks about Becky and Claire being in here, moments before Becky’s death. He pushes the thought away, and he and Sam ask the head nurse where John is. She doesn’t even seem to notice it’s not visiting hours as the frazzled woman points to a curtain and goes back to her work.

With a deep breath, Sam pulls the curtain back to reveal John. He’s stark white against the bed sheets, his pallor skin is corpselike. His lips are slightly parted and chapped, and there’s a cannula hooked up to an oxygen tank in his nostrils. His shallow breathing is erratic, and even though his eyes are closed, they’re red rimmed and puffy. Dean has never seen his father -the infamous, war hero, queer bashing man Dean’s grown to know- look so...weak.

“Dad?” Sam asks huskily, inching closer to the bed.

John’s eyes flutter open and his voice is weak, “Sam...Dean?”

“Yeah dad, it’s us.” Dean says softly, nearing the bed with reluctance, “You’re okay.”

“I’m alive,” John corrects quietly, “But not for long.”

“Huh?” Sam asks in disbelief. John shakes his head, “I’m not gonna make it. Bullet pierced one of my major organs. They have me on a transplant list but,” he stops speaking to cough wetly, and continues, “I’m not going to last long with this busted one.”

“You’re gonna be fine,” Dean argues, taking his dad’s IV’ed hand in his own, “Promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep boy,” John scolds him, in a voice that is scarily similar to Dean’s, “I know I’m not gonna live. I’ve accepted it. But listen son, I need to tell you some things.” Dean stares at him, but can’t find his voice, so John speaks again, “This is what needs to happen. I’ve been...I’ve been a real bad person Dean. I’ve made mistakes you know. I’ve hurt people who were just living their lives. But worst of all, I hurt you. I hurt Sammy. I hurt your mother. I hurt everyone in this family. I never meant to make you two leave. I always wanted you by my side, and had I realized how terrible of a person I am sooner, maybe none of this would’ve happened.”

He sucks in a deep breath and grimaces like he’s in pain before going on, “But...we can’t dwell on the past, you hear me? That man we killed Dean...I found out his name. It was Tony Hamilton. I want you to go back to Kansas, go to Eden cemetery. Bring Castiel and Claire, and apologize to him. I can’t do it now...I can’t fix what I’ve done. I can’t absolve myself of the mistakes I’ve made, not anymore. But you...you can do it for me. You can change the future. You can do this for both of us.” Dean is surprised to find that both he and Sam are crying, even though Sam probably has no idea what the hell John is talking about. John’s grip on Dean’s weakens, and he murmurs, “Promise this Dean; you’ll go see his grave. You’ll tell him how sorry I am. You’ll...you’ll do better for your kid.”

“Yes.” Dean says thickly, “I promise Dad.”

“Good. The world’s still bad Dean, but you’ve got to be the good guys.” John looks to Sam and shakes his head, “Both of you. Sam, date that cop, stop hiding. Be who you are and keep changing the world. Be one of the good guys.”

“I love you Dad,” Sam’s crying hard now, not even attempting to keep stoic like Dean and John clearly are. Sam always was the odd one out.

“I love you Sammy. I love you too Dean.”

“Thank you Dad,” Dean whispers, “For jumping in front of me. For saving me and my baby. For...for changing.” “Dean…”

John croaks out weakly, “That’s what being a parent is all about...you fuck up...but you’ve always got to fix it.”

“I love you Dad,” Dean realizes that he’s crying just as hard as Sam is.

John smiles up at Sam and Dean, “My boys. I love my boys…”

The heart monitor that moments ago had a constant, shrill beep, flatlines. A loud, still shriek coats the room, and several doctors and nurses rush in with a crash cart, pushing Sam and Dean out of the room. They watch as the doctors attempts prove futile, and John Winchester dies before their eyes.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Sam asks Dean, wiping his eyes as they exit the ICU and approach the elevator.

Dean nods a few times, “I have my family. Mary is in prison. We’re all going to be okay now Sammy.”

Sam presses the lobby button and turns to his brother, “So what now?”

Dean smiles at his shoes, “I’ve got to get a plane ticket to Kansas.”


	12. A Finale To Avoid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here's the last chapter, sorry for the wait :)
> 
> I thought this would be a nice way to close off the story, kinda going back to it's roots. Cas and Dean have each other and that's all that matters to them!  
> Thanks to everyone who read and commenting and left kudos and ahh everyone's awesome I love people! uwu
> 
> Thanks for everything, hope you stick around to see what I come up with next :)

It takes some convincing, but Dean finally gets Cas to agree to go to Kansas with him. Cas has got a two week spring break from work, so he grudgingly agrees to pack up Claire’s things and accompany Dean on the trip. Dean doesn’t tell him what it’s for. He doesn’t tell him the things John said on his deathbed. He just says that he needs Cas to go with him. And Cas agrees.

No matter how much Cas complains, in the end, he’ll always be by Dean’s side.

**

The flight is surprisingly swift, and they book a hotel fairly close to Dean’s hometown. Their first day there, they only lounge in the hotel room and sleep. Their second day that take Claire to some local attractions -although there certainly aren’t many in Lawrence Kansas- and Dean shows Cas some things from his childhood that are still standing.

On their third day, Dean swallows his anxiety and tells Cas, “We have plans today.”

“Oh yeah?” Cas asks as he tips a bottle gently to Claire’s lips. The trip had been trying for her, being a newborn and all. But she’d had time to adjust, and she was always happy nestled comfortably beside her daddies.

Dean scratches his neck, “Before all this crazy stuff happened...before Mom went to jail and Dad died, remember that story I told you?”

It takes Cas a moment, but then he asks, “About...killing that guy?” Dean nods, licking his chapped lips, “My dad gave me his name. I know what cemetery he’s at...I have to...I need to-”

“I understand,” Cas says, covering up for Dean’s loss of words, “Are you sure you want Claire and me to go?”

Dean nods, “I need you. I’m not sure I could do this without you.”

Cas hesitates, cuddles Claire a little closer and says, “Alright. we’ll be with you the whole time.”

Dean moves forward to plant a chaste kiss on Castiel’s forehead, doing the same to Claire, “I love you.”

Cas braves a smile, mentally preparing himself for what lies ahead, “I love you too.”

**

This is how they end up here, two hours later. Dean’s boots are scraping up the neatly mowed grass. Cas suggested they bring flowers, but now that Dean is here, holding them in his hands, they feel all wrong.

“Here, Cas, switch.” he tells his fiance, and Cas trades him Claire for the bouquet of roses.

They find the grave after ten minutes of searching. The cemetery isn’t too large, so it’s fairly easy to pick out his name. As soon as Dean sees the name Tony Hamilton it all comes crashing back to him. He was so angry. His father’s approval was fucking everything. John was an unreachable goal and Dean had been desperate to get there. Dean was worthless without his dad’s pride. The man was innocent...his beautiful brown eyes...He’d tried to assure Dean..tell him it was all normal. That had made Dean so furious. His dad was always right. If John said it was wrong, it was wrong.

John is dead now, and so is Tony.

Dean doesn’t know who was right. Maybe it really was John, maybe Dean’s fucking wrong for loving men, for loving Cas. Maybe Tony was right, maybe there truly is nothing wrong with being yourself and loving whoever makes you happy. He does know this though: it doesn’t matter. Whatever happens, whatever comes his way, he can handle. Because he has Cas and Claire, and he has Sam and -God help him- he has Gabriel. He has family, real family, and family don’t end with blood.

Cas sets the flowers on the plot, looking to Dean tenderly, “Are you going to say anything?”

Dean hugs Claire just a little tighter against his chest and says roughly to the headstone, “I’m sorry. I know it sounds lame man, after what I did to you, but I mean it. I’m so fucking sorry...you deserved better. You deserved a life. Could I trade mine for yours...I’d do it in an instant. But I can’t. My father is dead, but he told me to tell you he’s sorry too. I don’t know if he meant it, or he was sad about dying, but either way, I’m telling you. I think maybe he finally realized that it’s not fair to demand the same feelings of other people as you have. It’s true. We had no right to...to hurt you for being who you were. Fuck...I’m so sorry.”

Claire coos softly at the crack in his voice, and Cas curls his arm around Dean’s waist comfortingly. Dean nudges close to Cas and cuddles Claire tightly before continuing, “I don’t know if there’s life after death. I don’t know if you get rewarded for the shit life and people give you...but if there is, and you can hear me right now, I’m sorry. I will never sleep at night because of what I did to you, and I hope, maybe, that helps absolve you of some of the hatred you probably feel for me. If you can hear me Tony, I’m sorry.”

Dean glances at Cas who’s wiping his wet eyes and sniffling, which makes Claire mumble unhappily and frown.

Dean kisses him once quickly and murmurs, “I don’t know what else to say.”

Cas half-smiles “I think you’ve said enough.”

“It’ll never feel like enough.”

“I know,” Cas sighs, staring listfully at the grave, “That’s why I’m here.”

Dean smiles, hugging his daughter and relishing in the support of his fiancee, “Yes. And that is all I need.”

Dean means it; as long as he has his family, he is going to be just fine.


End file.
